A sweet woman I've had yet to gaze upon
Awaits the time when our words touch,
In person for the first time
Before we are both gone,
Onto the rough sea of life.
Clutching the sails and rails
Trying not to get capsized by life.
Baptized by the words she writes and
Captivated by the time gone by talking to her.
Almost seems unreal how I feel when we speak.
Like talking to a reflection
With phone acting as Mirror.
A technological friendship,
And a woman independent
Of the groups called Humans;
More so an angel.
Independent of the group called Women,
More so a dazzling spectacle of being,
That seems too good to be real.
She's an angel with clipped wings,
Learning to fly with every song that she sings.
