Magic and Fog

She was strength and magic Timeless and tragic She was diamonds and dust Just when you had her attention you lost her trust. Refined and dignified Reclusive and mystified. She was a mystery and a disaster She wouldnt like if you asked her Fine wines and old books Embroidered vintage scarves and large sunglasses Yes she has the looks. Jewelery from the island of St. Isadore So you thought as she hides her face when leaving the thrift store Elegance and poise Brief glances and small responses never any noise She would breeze past you in a busy place You could forget everything except her expressionless face Her eyes straight forward she never saw you there Yet her intended avoidance was apparent in her indirect stare She would angrily stab the cobblestones at the small street market with her red high heels so you knew she was near She would hold fake credit cards so her facade would keep you in envy and fear. She would examine the market merchandise as if she had no interest or desire She was fueled by the ice in her fire You could try to approach maybe offer a drink or meal With one cold rejection your heart would fail to heal. She was a local story and lie She was a social write off but we never saw her cry She wanted us to believe in her made up shine I watch her walk away to the woods I remember when that life was mine.