I've seen her before.
She was there when I wailed my first cry, I may not remember it but I know it.
She has beautiful dark void eyes that reveal your hidden reflections.
She was there when I got curious. I started walking over to her, my heart in her hands so small... yet it had the strong beat of a hundred buffaloes racing. She no longer filled my vision when the screech of a car was heard and passed by me like a bullet train.
I had seen her.
She looms over the ones who are in eternal rest.
I saw her once again when the sharp sting of my attackers steel blade caressed my neck and I saw the way she devoured the sight of my blood as it trickled down into the dip of my collar bone.
I saw her stand still. I saw her smile.
No matter where I am, no matter what happens, my reality seems to revolve around her as everything else blurs into a white space and all I can focus on are her heart shaped lips and her tentative gown.
I saw her when my friend was six feet underneath and she stood still as her face contoured into a gleeful expression.
I saw her. I saw her. I saw her.
I saw her hovering over the white lump over by highway eighty and as I drove by I could feel her stare pierce my inner being.
I saw her. Behind the news reporter. Even the fires anger could not create a single highlight on her gorgeous swaying body. The fire kept a slave.
I've seen her and so will you.
You'll see her shiny black mane. Her seductive smirk. Her floating gown. Her empty dark eyes. And her mesmerizing figure.
You'll see her and you'll fall, at least I did.
I knew it when she opened her eyes and it was my turn to blink.
I am no longer.
