head in the clouds

the divine feminine

I remember the way her eyes reflected the dark blue of the ocean.
I remember her sweet scent in the air, and how it lingered on me.
I remember hearing the call of gulls soaring above us.
She was one of a kind, that woman, that summer.
With her, I was repulsed, yet in love.
Being with her was like a cruel curse from the gods above.
She was so easy to judge on a surface level
Most art is that way though.
Others would see it as illicit, me with her.
But if being in love with her is so wrong, then a sinner I may as well be.
Moments with her were fragile.
So delicate that if I were to have spoken it would have shattered.
All that being said, lately all I tend to dream about is her
What we used to be, and what will never be again.
And how the sheer devastation of our love will never fail to devastate me.