She.

She.
Moans like a girl,
Moves like a lady,
broods like a saint,
but breaks like a woman.

She looks away,
and I stare.
I smile,
and she knows.

I think,
but she says,
I listen,
and she has her way.

She breathes,
I stay awake.
The ink flows,
and the dawn breaks.

It's an open sea,
and the quest for a sign.
She'd light a candle,
but there's too much moonlight in our eyes.

We wait for something,
to happen astray,
but don't we forget,
tomorrow comes today.