She wore a black dress made of the fire
and art of poetry
and she glided gracefully as she tip-toed
from star to star
with her soft hair spilling out and over the sky
painting the night the color of dreams
she danced within the gleaming
silk indigo flames of eternity
out in the dark where
no one could watch her move
and even though she
was far out in the darkness
way up high where no one could see her
and my eyes could not trace
the outline of her form
or make out the shape of her smile
I knew she was beautiful
I could feel it in the space beneath my ribs
and in the sound of my heart beat