If I see her again I will tell her this and that, a little of both perhaps. But the truth is that I know she won't be coming back. Not tomorrow, not for a thousand tomorrows standing side by side on a wall that disappears beyond the hills.

Maybe, later, I will know how all this happens, how you can reach out and there is nothing, no one, reaching back.

If that happens, she will explain not with words but with a smile. She'll begin moving around this very room. She'll be stirring inside somehow. Begin dancing, just as she always did.

I look a thousand nights ahead and remember as many days back, but there is no seeing her, not now or then or in the time in between.

Until I see her again I'll be content to imagine her. The way she came and went away, the way she never was...