31 January 2013

She was elusive.

She was today.

She was tomorrow.

She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower,

The flitting shadow of an elf owl.

We did not know what to make of her.

In our minds we tried to pin her to a cork board like a butterfly,

But the pin merely went through her

And she flew away...

wannabewriterStargirl's a ᏴᏌᎿᎿᎬᎡFᏞᎩ • Opuss № I