she is not someone you meet
she's visually striking, but her beauty is revealed over time, as the elements sculpt the side of a marble cliff
she has mostly male friends, even when she's married, none of which can ever tell where things stand
she'll share a double room with you during an overnight trip, then after she takes a really long bath you awake to find her curled up at your side
she'll ride with you into the sunset till the road ends and then hop the next plane
she re-creates her family in whatever circle she finds herself
she is her own time and space and a world your dreams can only wish they were set in
she's the cashews in your chex mix - edible without them, but what's the point?
she is distant all evening and then sings haunting, wordless medieval chants as you make love
she's a guilty pleasure in that you hopelessly adore her in spite of yourself
she is almost as good of a friend as she is inspiring, yet at times, even more so
she's the risk you can't afford not to take
she forms relationships from her own mold, which if you manage to break, she'll quietly, albeit somewhat reluctantly, savor it in hear heart forever
she's a figment of your imagination even as she stands right in front of you
she perpetually keeps you within inches of the most horrendous mess you could ever find yourself in
she is wonderfully, wonderfully imperfect and may just admit it if you stick around long enough
she's a girl on the inside, obviously, but one who's unabashed sweetness sneaks up on you, making you wonder why you ever doubted her
she is someone you experience
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