She frolicked in the night for time beyond the ages of anything said to be living. She did so unfettered, under the sway of no being, save one. She wrapped her arms in hypnotizing patterns while swaying to the deep ocean chant of gigantic gravities. A starfish made of suns, thirsty for love that ever felt unrequited save for the warp and weft of invisible tides pulsing through the absolute arctic of the interstellar night. She smiled. She sometimes wept. She always turned, suns beyond count burning into a thirst that forever seemed unquenched. Patience beyond comprehension radiated outward. She would wait. He would come to her.
He saw her, knew her for billions of years without speaking. His own arms ached, fluid plasma spirals whirling and spattering light of infinite intensities into the void. They waved to and fro in a curl he could not control. Gravitic hands, invisible lips guarding a seeking tongue that he knew wanted, needed, demanded his body as sacrifice for the gift of existence. The milk of his body he held close. Never did he dare to let it go. He too had patience measured in a scale incomprehensible to the motes of life that flashed in and out of existence in his body, tiny beings flickering like organic mirrors of the pulsars murmuring in the heart. He would wait. He had time. But he knew it was his destiny for her to drink the milk of his creation.
Decay. Contraction. Red shift into blue. Billions of years rolling by as if an afternoon to Andromeda and Kyklos. Under the wheel of time they drew closer. Her heart leaped, his body ached. She gasped in delight, he groaned in pain. The gravity ocean swelled and roiled as their arms met. She dove into the core as his arms curled up around her, a cosmic lotus enrobing a jewel beyond price. This universe filled with light so bright it became all, covered all. Her heart swelled to meet his, her lips drinking in the milk of stellar fusion. The light consumed everything as it poured from their entwined centers. Keening filled the black matrix between the stars when Andromeda drank her lover, he consumed by her passion to end the universe as it began: in the singularity of love. Andromeda drank Kyklos Galaktikos, and the universe was reborn.