She glowed with astounding certainty
Basked in femininity
Guarded frailty
She moved me
And it behooves me that the time can be so frail
Stopping in a moment, or a conversation
Especially one that touches a soul
Or perhaps when two souls “click”
And I am transfixed
On this creature of art and feeling
She did all of this without even meaning
To make an impact or leave a mark on me
But when you left, indeed a mark was left
Not only on me but also where you sat.
A small smear of pink paint on your seat
Is the main reason why I know
you are not a phantom or ghost
But a fierce and bold spirit
in the form of perhaps a pixie
That has seemed to mix me up
In a boiling pot of resonating thoughts
Echoing, Glowing and Flowing
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