i saw her

nestled in cream

and frilly icing

i saw her

plain and overlooked


i smelled the heady scent of possibility

i inhaled the dizzying fragrance of fantasy

i heard her piqued protests

her soft and thought-filled hmmms

her escalating laughter

her stifled tears

her silent sighs

only a welcome phone call away

only a night’s drive away

only an arm’s length away

yet never held

just beheld.


it is real

it is real
it happens

yet there seems to be no place for it
when there are so many other tangible, physical, material things to be had.

there is no room for something that takes up no such space
do not search for it, it is not lost, just waiting to be found.

when word cannot define it but waits for the claim to label it
what need do we have of something that could be anything?

i cannot prove you have it,
i have to take your word for it
the same word that cannot define
what it is you and i cannot see
but what we feel…