I wish that she
would come, but
she reamins, hovering
at the edge of the
rirle light, hesitant
wild and beautiful
unwilling to commit
but insisting that
we dance. And
I follow her lead
only too happy to
be near her, close,
touching. And her
scent is intoxicating
more important than
her beauty and perhaps
to me, more memorable.

                AcB        5.30.98