There is a girl somewhere, somehow;
impossible and true. She shouldn't exist -
she should have evaporated so long ago
yet somehow she kept on breathing and existing,
condensing and condensing
until she finally moved with solidity.
She sang in sorrowful silence,
was free in the terrors of the night,
lived and loved
regardless of the loss in her heart.
She survived because life told her not to
and now she is there, running
pure and clear as a dream,
wild and crazed bewilderment
shining in her alive eyes.
That Latin beauty, she is vivid and gleaming
in the light which shines
true and bright and effervescent.
She will be waiting for the liquid to return
and to dissolve into transparency once more but,
as she always forgets,
she will never die out.
We are all like her
in some way or another.