She is everywhere

She sits inside my eyelids as I sleep,

pulling me between nightmares and the ceiling at 4am.

I search the early morning shadows

for any sign of her.

Sipping on this now-cold coffee,

a sillouhette rocks on the chair across from me,

her presence is haunting in this small café

full of life.

I see her smile borrowed by faces of strangers,

and foreign voices begin to sound familiar with

words she would have pronounced

in that way.

She swims in the lake I am walking by,

and hugs each falling rain drop.

When the sun burns, it burns warmer for she

is nearer by.

I want to have loved her a little harder,

and to have tucked her soul into my scarf.

To have seen her everywhere then instead of now,

that she isn't.

I will carry her on the top of my shoes,

so that she dances when I dance, and

kicks with me when I kick away the battles

she couldn't.