Where do her thoughts wander?
Her laugh projects a hidden fire
I see the sharp and angular corners
Of her mind and feel humbled by the
Warmth restrained.

The strange and subtle way in which
She walks, fanned by imperfections,
Surrounded by a giggle of outsiders
Whose best efforts to comprehend
Are hopelessly in vain.

She is a fascinating enigma, a



Question mark uninterested by the
Fetters of convention and the
Constant need to describe
And explain.

She speaks in riddles, seeks the
Soft and subtle alternatives to life,
Reeks of love and confidence, sways
Between extremes in the latitude of her
Own domain.

My odd and wandering hours are devoted to
Peeling back the barriers of her hardened gaze;
if at times, I succeed (in varying degrees)
She applies the pressure and has me
Fumbling and strained.

She is that fleeting, hiding piece of
Sweetness, but disguised by wit;
I long to break her tactful veils
Some have tried and most have failed
And so I must refrain.

The sparks and embers shrouded by prudence
Belied so slyly in the flickers of her eyes
Discarded by a comment, unacknowledged
So she never feels too much...but still,
They will remain.

Whether manifested in casual affections
Or concealed in a storm of disdain
She is alight with passion, repulsed by the mundane...
I may be offended, I may have complained
Those flickers that I wish to attain
Fill my days with a glimmering flame
Because they will remain.
Because they still remain.