She's.
She's an angel made of dust and dreams. A faceless peasant of broken hopes and broken habits. She's rainy days in the emptiness of winter. A passionate kiss from cold lips. She's foamy waves on a stormy shore. A darkened night illuminated by stars. She's the splash of color on a blank canvas. Ice down your back when you're nice and warm. She's a nightmare that haunts your every sleep. A blessing in the bed beside you. She's red leaves on a leafless tree. A butterfly from a damaged cacoon. She's the inky black of midnight. A bleach so dizzyingly white. She's everything. Nothing at all.