The One

She stood there in the wayside
She laughs at me still
Beautiful. Pristine. Pure.
Touched by the world all over
And yet pure to her essence.
That kind of Power she had on me
The way she controls me
My thoughts. My feelings. My heartbeat.
I shiver. I ran.
Her presence enough.
Her existence in this realm sufficient.
She is.
She was there.
Standing before me.
Mine.
No one's.
I was her's. I am independent.
Yet I can't help but wonder for once
What price freedom?