I saw her between a rainbow and a storm.
I saw her stuck in a dark cloud attempting to fall with the morning rain.
I saw her on every rim like scattered petals on a colorless covering.
Beautiful like a burst of warm sunshine, like a rush of gloominess under the rain.
I saw her throughout my desires, my prayers, and my visions. She wasn't a physical character; she breathed transparently to ease my pain.
I asked her to linger around my pattern with her magical pencil; she was an artist.
My watercolors faded, and my patterns stumbled to rise, I needed my imaginary girl.

artwork unknown