She Waddles into the Night Like the Sun

She waddles into the night like the Sun

The white wine turning blue in her bowel

The Cosmos did not encourage her gun

Neither did she ask for a new vowel

The words, I love you, were already spun

Even the Moon circumvented their might

When lust turns to love, the future is done

Unless circumstances become affright

O Athena! I hoped that love had won

At least within her chest's circumference

I knew from the start, I was not her one

Following the new-age interference

Breathing is not easy with her in mind

One rarely looks for the upcoming find

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Dedicated to Athena.