Elemental Grace

White feet haloed by lace

Swept across ancient floorboards,

Blooms of dust in their wake.


Had I been asleep?

I must have been awake:

For right before me,

I saw her lovely face,

The tender soul,

Her elemental grace.


Illuminated by candlelight

Ocean beads clung to her skin.

She was a vision so real.

I truly believed I would never see this again.


My sight was not deceived

For my hearing gave confirm:

She whispered in my ear,

“Your heartbeat’s so, so warm.”


Like a lick of fire,

Or a winded gust,

She burst into a million tears.

A cloud of dust.


So where had she gone?

Covers aside,

I revolve where I saw:

Traces of a postcard

Marked by her elegance,

True poise and all.


It had been an extension of her ink,

How I have been in her heart.

Her way of connecting with me.

Solely an extension of her pen’s art.


And as her eyes linger receptive,

I articulate of all I could lend them

And poured out my soul.

I swear that’s what she hunted.


My message crossed a page

And reached her ocean.

As it turned out,

She was mine all along.

Ink shattered all my doubts,

My ill-conceived notions.

The End

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