Invisible - with a swish of her cloak, she turns to glass; stealth technology of the highest order that US Generals, fearing rival borders, to own would surely sell loyalties both homeland and extramuros.
A hazy, busy camouflage is all I see, but I recall dark and gold spun curls alongside me; before invisibility.
While communication, fading nightly, causes motes to tumble crazily, describing arcs in air and drowning brightly where she has passed.
Is this Winter? Will this last?
And, I wonder still and ask the air aloud of she - Lady Invisible, will you soon appear to me?
(By me, circa 2012.)
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