She
Her hand she lays on the paper,
Her heart she gives to art.
Lost fragments of dreams to
Recover,
To fly freely like a dove.
Her dialogue is always about
Love, lights, gleam.
She talks of beautiful sunsets.
Yes, she finds her visions in
A dream.
Don't think she is incapable
Of healing your sorrows.
She always masters a plan.
She'll touch your heart without
Intent,
Never stays more than minutes,
But you'll miss her when she's gone.
