She hides when I look for her,
sometimes playfully,
or from her sweet shyness,
and sometimes, out of fear.
Looking right at me,
she’ll smile
all tease and seduction,
and ignore my beckoning.
Sometimes she cries,
and steps out of my embrace,
and nothing I can say or do
will console her.
There have been times, too,
when blood was spilled when
we’ve made war, then love,
and sit together writing in the
quiet places of our hearts.
Sometimes apart,
but always
united.
Beyond Panic 