She Was Mary Jane?

Sitting shadowless isolated by the aspects of reality I wonder when will she appear. Impatiently waiting lead by false mentality My mind creates a fallacy near. Dressed in silks that blow in the wind Locks that swirl of passion at tip of each curl. Sunlight cuddling with her lips as she grinned Displaying her teeth the color and price of Perl. She walks barefoot leaving footsteps of flowers While the wind sings swaying to the rhythm of her hips. She draws closer sunlight replacing mellow rain showers As I notice my reflection trapped in her lips. Her lips draw closer scented of pollens and herb Out of all days of getting high under my tree this was the day. We took process in an F word seemingly using it as verb And then she vanished and wondered away.