She was simply there, An incarnation of herself. No longer a nexus of adjectives But pure and present noun. I noticed the little fine hairs on her legs, A speck of sleep in the canthus of her eye. No longer Our lady of the Enigmas, but a girl, Just a girl. And somehow by being suddenly there like this She made the things around her be there too. In her, and in what she spoke, the world, The little world in which we sat. Found itβs grounding and was realised. It was as if she had dropped a spreading drop of colour Into the water of the world and the colour had spread And the outlines of things had sprung into bright relief. As I sat with my mouth open And listened to her, I felt everyone And everything shiver and shift, falling into the most vivid of forms Detaching themselves from me and my conception of them. And changing themselves instead into what they were No longer figment, no longer mystery, No longer a part of my imagining. And I, I was there amongst them, at last.