When Earth was new and young, and life played on her chest with its new emergence, there grew from her belly button two serpentine ribbons of light – one blue and green, cool and fluid like a mountain stream; the other magenta and fire, like lightning through heavy clouds. The two tendrils danced and played with each other and wound in and out, interchangeably around mothers and their sucklings, within the patient legs of hunting lions and through the nostrils of herding gazelles. Couples formed on Earth’s hip, mountain peaks they climbed using the ladder rungs these two energy sprites would weave for them. Like a helix blanket, light from their hearts made more of these willow branches that draped around their eyes and shoulders as it entwined them. Love was born on Her, and the innocent betrothed tethers of luminescence who inseminated it all suddenly became at risk of being lost forever.