she is beautiful

even though i have never seen her i know, it comes through

it wouldn’t matter anyway

looks can fade, vision can go, but inner beauty always finds a way to light the darkened hallways of a mind

it is a bubbling of the soul, the careless grace of phrase

as i am trapped in a hotel halfway across the country, far from home, farther from her

left with only the cascade of vague expressionary terms, the river of phrase, the appellations of lingering emotional appeal

she cannot hear me

if she could she would soar on gentle wings, feel the wind beneath her feet as new heights were attained

but i am just a mirage

and she is the sweetest dream