You see,
she does not live
on your planet.
Or exist
in your world.
she
is the black
on a butterfly’s wings.
The tickle
on your neck.
she cannot die
she does not live.
She
is everything
and nothing
The last
raindrop
in the
storm.
The impulse
behind your eyes
that says
yes.
She is love
and lust
and passion.
She cannot be
contained.
Her kiss
is life
and death
a beautiful
deadly
poison.
She
is the siren
when she calls
you will
answer
and it will mean the end.