Poetry: What is she?

What is she?

What is she?
Nothing but an illusion.
A young, beautiful thing,
a dream made up of half-remembered memories
that she’ll never know and
lost chances with one
that made the heart beat.

What is she?
A rich smile,
green eyes,
silk hair,
freedom itself.

What is she?
A muse,
unreal,
an adaptation,
a slate to draw upon until those are all
proved to be someone else
and not her,
not her story,
not her life.

What is she?
A thought,
a promise,
a possibility.

She is ever-changing but frozen,
a frozen reminder
of one long past.
I do not know where they go to
but somewhere they are together.

What is she?
She is a girl,
an inspiring,
funny,
witty,
clever,
beautiful,
entrancing,
limitless girl.

She is the present but I can’t
distance her from the past.
She is an adventure.

We will be friends and,
despite my dreams,
likely little else.
We will be close
and laugh
and play
and create
and compliment one another,
and buy each other gifts
and share what we have
and what we wish we had.

What is she?
She is the one that I love.
The love of an old fool.

– September 1, 2015