I think maybe you are made of clouds and mist

So real, enveloping

I walk, and I disappear in your embrace

And yet when I reach out to touch

Nothing greets my fingers

When I reach out to feel

Nothing floods my heart

You are limited only by imagination

Take as many forms and personalities as I think of

But when I search for you

Nothing greets my eyes

When I breathe the mists in

No form fills my lungs

You bear rains and storms within your being

And dew drops too

I drink both, unsated

But my eyes are spilling over

I can love a force of nature

But they cannot love only one

I am left lying on the grass watching

And you are up there, on the run.