She struck me  
out of the blue,  
the way that most beautiful songs  
find you.  
It plays out of nowhere,  
normally when you're out and about—  
one foot out the door,  
slipping through the holes  
of a random speaker.  
Before I knew, I was nodding  
my head.  
It's already full of things  
that don't matter.  
My head and the thoughts
That go through it.
Her voice cuts through all of that,  
a song you want to know the name of,  
so you can hear it again—  
one that you hope doesn't end too soon,  
but still delicate enough to not  
notice when she tips away.  
She's a song,  
a uniquely beautiful woman  
that you notice before she walks  
away.  

There's not enough in the world  
that makes sense.  
She pulls me in and confesses  
that she's just like me—  
the way that most beautiful songs do.  
I knew that I would chase her  
before she walked away.