A sense of exuberance fills the room,
her hair still wet, smells of perfume,
she walks clumsily with awkward hello's,
the form of her smile is all that I know.
She lines up her pencils in a colorful row
gifts her joyful spirit everywhere she goes,
listens and nods, quick to crack jokes,
her eyes are windows to her unapologetic soul,
her existance is ethereal
light and refined
She is her own, so she will never be mine
as long and she is still here
I think i'll be fine
an inhabitant of heaven
leaving traces in my mind