She smells like summer rain
and wet hair.
Like the forest after a storm
drowning in the sky's blessings.
She walks like chaos,
a cacophony of arms and legs
that jolt in the direction of travel.
She stands tall, with dark undereyes
and a dress that stops flowing
around her waist
but does not end
until **** near
her feet.
She stalks the night like a pedator and prey
all in one.

And she looks at me.