She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.
She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.
She stays lost in the middle of her own world somewhere. We can’t get in and she doesn’t come out.
Some things don’t last forever, but some things do. Like a good song, or a good book, or a good memory you can take out and unfold in your darkest times, pressing down on the corners and peering in close, hoping you still recognize the person you see there.