wanderer, her friends called her
for her eyes roved the horizon constantly.
she liked to think of herself as warrior
and her roving eyes the training of war;
looking out for the dangers that lurked
within the actions of enemies,
but mostly within friends and lovers.
she had been a wanderer
long before her eyes
she had walked along the sea shores
allowing the waves to tingle at her feet
and leave her gasping with their splash.
she had climbed the mountains
breathing in light, morning air
allowing it to constrict her chest.
she had loved the only way she knew how
with her soul reaching out
to the whole world her lovers inhabited,
allowing herself to bleed inside them;
hoping that they loved her enough,
while they broke her one minute,
healed her the next,
and left her heart thirsting.
they had accused her of weakness and strength,
thoughtlessness and overthought,
apathy and passion,
until the eyes learned to rove,
anticipate their next arrow
and another wanderer became a warrior.