She/ Extrinsic

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about her. How others may see me.

Submitted: June 23, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 23, 2013



She is an alien

In the extrinsic sense.

She doesn't belong.

She is a wonder,

Possibly the only one that's been

To the Triangle and back.

It would not be a surprise

If that's even where she's from.

People and I, we both think

Of who she could be.

Maybe a witch.

Maybe a source of power,

Able to control us with her

Ever-swelling omnipotence.

It’s never clear with an initial meeting,

But you don’t know what she’s capable of.

Maybe she’s an angel,

An exception to the gods,

Able to roam the world freely.

She may merely be a feather,

An insignificant pebble that

Barely contributes to the earth.

She’s probably a sister to a crab

With her snappy mood and short temper.

I bet she lives in the sea

With the algae and the hippocampus.

She’ll occasionally swim past a whale

Like a sea nymph,

Morphing into one with the ocean.

A silent whisper glides over the tides

But she can hear it miles under the surface.

She’s sharp-eared like that.

When she cries,

Thunder roars and the clouds are black.

All water becomes murky

And marine animals grow doleful.

But the Ancient Greeks say: lo’!

She is but a girl!

With no powers of a god

And no ways of the wicked,

She is She and that is all.

© Copyright 2020 Sam the Luminous. All rights reserved.

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