She was sunlight. She was rain. She was all that made bones feel alive. She was all that beauty meant. Dark worlds could not steal light made from her laughter. To love her would never be enough. Not loving her would be to fight the depths of the sea. Being with her was to be with a hurricane. Not being with her…the desert.

She was the sea. The indigo waves molding the rocks, making pathways into every corner of stone hearts. She was the mountains. Explore for a lifetime, but still gasp around every bend. Sheer wonder. Sheer expanse. Vast wilderness.

She knows. She is knowing. She has known. She stands on the edges and brings them closer together. Her fingers create colors in night’s quiet moments. Moons are jealous. The tides yield to her voice. She is wind, she is tempest.

I am lost. I wander her map of skin and bone. Connecting lines, finding another, feeling alive…always alive. Stockholm in Spring. A maze. Her eyes lead on. Pools of green reflection. Question all, answer few. Love to ruin commonplace….

I am lost at sea. I am drunk. I will never be found. I am bound for her darkest clouds. Course set, mind to purpose. I will never be swayed….She is tempest.