|she was the smell of smoke,
and also, the lick of fire
the soft whisper of mist,
and also the mysterious curve of the shore.
she was the exhale of falling leaves,
and also, the thirsty ribs of winter
the juncture of her and here and then and that,
and also the most profound stillness.
she was the inexorable change of the moon,
and also, the running feet of the ocean tide.
the balance of memory and regret
of love and lies.
she is in everything
and also nothing
she is many things,
but she is not yours.