"A woman's face hand-painted by the universe Her consciousness was illustrious She is a mystery to certain people, a living wonder to others A lot of them wanted to visit her, but they lost in numbers Prisoners of choice couldn't reach her, they were merely fleeting thoughts They were just passengers, they weren't able to connect the dots All they had to do was to look inside their hearts Her beauty like galaxies, will never fall apart Compare her to the skies, she is alive like the morning star."

• 1/1 poem made by Bourgeois.