Who Is She?

Who is she?

The sight of her in the morning

Is a whiff of fresh air

In a bitter atmosphere of emotional solitude

Her face so regal, so cunningly calm

Like a queen

She mystifies my senses

I lose my bearings

But gladly I welcome the discomfort

 

Who is she?

She fascinates with the splendor of morning dew

On white lilacs

Gently caressing my soul

 

Her size belies the immensity of her being

A preponderance of beauty

In a sea of faces (in a muted shade of blue)

 

Where is she?

By strange happenstance she appeared

On the horizon

When all was dreary

For a fleeting moment

I was rescued from the pits of wretchedness

You’d think she’s there

But upon second glance

She becomes a mist

Dissipating into a hazy universe

Of despair and desolation

 

She’s out of sight but not out of mind

 

What is she?

She becomes an enigma

An indecipherable code

Encrypted into my consciousness

You think you’ve figured her out

Your assumptions fail you

For it is her cloaking of herself

With a deceptive semblance of simplicity

That veers you away

From the complex yet ethereal essence of her being

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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