Behind the words
She remained
All through her life.
The reflections
She had sought had
Water in them,
Potable yet sour.
I remember
When she said to me,
“I had never been
More than an idea.”
After having felt a fleeting
But maddening emotion
To clench her tightly in my arms
I responded and acted
As if the air of my city
Believed more
In footfalls of callused feet
Than in her innocent eyes.