I reach my hand to touch her hair, and find a hundred white kittens purring to my touch. Her scent is the fragrance of spring, of love, and her body, a hallmark of womanhood; with eyes that watch me behind a guise of olive green daring the sun to compete with their warmth... But have I forgotten? Did I mention my unawareness of these things the moment her heart utters words unspoken? She is a spirit yearning to be free from that gilded cage, with the anxious pacing of a tigress behind bars, impatient of the crude forms of expression that the body confines us to, though it be wondrous to look upon. Thus, this is she, a divine mixture of high and low, of spirit and flesh, of fault and talent; at one moment uplifting me to the clouds, at another, thrusting me into the sea, the churning sea... This is she, my beloved, the emblem of my True Beloved. In her embrace I find my heart is not conflicted, for I know now that a single kiss can reach them both.