She is the sway of new-lovers' hips to an old just-forgotten song as they blush and laugh at the strangeness of each other's eyes.

She is the infinite majesty of a starry night sky in the wilderness, untamed and terrifying in its beauty that plucks at the primal heartstrings, mere existence telling us we are insignificant.

She is the gentle light of an orange Harvest moon, shining on friends and enemies alike.

She is the fierce heat of summer-simmer sun.

She is the ache of too many tears tracing tired tracks.

She is an exotic new food.
She is the swoop of a roller coaster.
She is the chill of a spring breeze.
She is the crispness of an army bed.

She is the Weeping One.
She is my friend.