21Jan/080
Blind
All I could see was a silhouette
A faceless form, I hadn't seen her yet
She moved like a ghost, not moving at all
From her place to mine and into me
The outline changes from a line to light
A blinding light that still deprives me
Of the form I try to see
And the face I try to post to memory
Why do these details niggle me
When I know not her, her face or form
I still try to construe what I see
Of her and what she does to me
She can't be real, just smoke, a cloud of mystery.