Out of Sight

It's not the string of pearls
that she deserves
but a different type of wonderment
that lifts her excitement
with wild words
and plastic clouds
and fairies floating
all around
and she waves as she wavers
only to savor these
unique and fleeting moments
flying free
like a noun that is not a subject
but an object of desire
and as she respires
untouched air
that stings with a flair
for simplicity
and with the audacity
in the limelight
she flies a kite
that drifts
above the mountain
and far out of sight