I am the swirls in the steam above your tea cup, the whisper of wind in the tops of trees; I am that high and light laugh that you can never find the source of, that soft tap of feet that always follows you; I am always there but never tangible, always just beyond where your eyes can see even when they look right at me; I hide in plain sight, even when I shout it is a whisper; I am stuck between two worlds, always where you are, and yet a million miles away.