She is.
Still
searching.
For the
perceived
hidden part
of herself.
That can
only
experience
her
nature state
of being.
It is
no other,
than whom,
she already is.
Yet,
she turns
her attention
elsewhere.
Over layering,
overlapping,
undercutting
a reflective
meandering
mirage.
That never
quenches
her thirst.