tis but incremental measures of the everchanging/time

there is a she
for me.
i know not where;
i know not her location/
though her presence,
her laughter/liquid breathings
form on me a chill,
a warmth of breeze/of budding
pores brought lively–
and, though she is not here,
i know she is.
she exists..
or, if not now,
as she is in mind,
she will be, in time,
much more, much more
than finite words/definites
/much more
than thought of as now by me.

are you her? this
she whose lesson,
pressure,
rises me
to fluidity of thought
as though image,
burnt through dreams?