She hovers on the edge of my mind
Sometimes
Still without a name
Her features change from time to time
But her heart is still pure
Sometimes
I find her sitting on a rock
Staring out at a water-reflected sunset
Listening to whippoorwills in the evening breeze
Sometimes
She speaks to me, early in the chilly morning
Asks me just to lie with her another minute
Then kisses me on my way
Sometimes
In my darkest moments I can’t see her
But I can feel how far away she’s become
I can see her turning away in disdain
Sometimes
She’s just around the corner
And sometimes,
She’s dead.