She floated towards me.
An extention of a dream,  
The finger tip of God's
Downstretched hand.

My eyes wide open into
Bedroom darkness, as
If seeing something ghost
Yet so very, very not.

Hair flowing as if fading
Into the frame of
Night. Arms like wings over
Eggs; every piece of my

Heart in one warm nest.
Eyes like universes, skin
The glow of supernovas.
Smile as sincere as a

Mother's. Ænima. Soul-
Muse. The final force
Behind every poet's pen.
Nothing so penetratingly

Beautiful ever touched the
Iris of my inner eye. Never
Felt such embrace, as if safe
At last; knowing: In not too

Long, every drop of water on
Earth has been
Cried at least
Once.