I really can't describe you.

I can't even describe
the faerie or spirit being you
sometimes are, sometimes resemble
in your aspect and look.

You are so beautiful
as to be out of a tale. It comes out
in angles and lights, and
I'm struck smart with wonder. Your species
is one I don't think has ever been drawn
up in the literature. It's like

you make the atmosphere around you go underwater,
in terms of refraction of light and current
made visible, yet

it's only thin air you move in,
like the rest of us.

You are a sort of feral and sophisticated
were-mermaid whose tail never quite
came together, and is all the better
for her shapely legs. Or a being woven
of its own story, rarest of all:

a cosmic self-author whose atmosphere
she carries with her and only sometimes
lets out as a trick to beguile, or more likely,
didn't mean to. Its characteristic water aura

has only to do with her love of waves and surf
- not anything inherently aquatic.
A soul that loves to return

to other realms, once supped all over
her form and flesh, having nearly lost
her protective suit a few times. An explorer

undaunted, who is made out of all she's explored,
and who has deftly remade it all
along the way. Whose beauty uncanny
- when it suddenly comes over one's eyes
and mind - is not the uncanny of unheimlich,
unfamiliar,
of dread and revulsion,
but of uplift and awe. For it is impossible
not to recognize this emanation is not of realms
alien or hostile, but of

something infinitely homing.
Of comfort and heart's hearth.
Something that calls us,
and into which we are drawn.

I really can't describe you.
Let alone the effect you have,
from certain angles,
in certain lights,
most of all mine.

By my lights, more and more,
you are something akin
to divine.