i found this in a journal from 2002

once--
maybe a long time ago,
or maybe years from now,
maybe twice--
well, maybe lots of times
like when the sun rises and sets,
there was a little girl.
well,
she looked like a little girl,
but really she was an amazing swirl
of stardust and raindrops and budding flowers,
and haikus,
and monkey giggles,
but when people looked at her
all they saw was a little girl.
now a little girl
is a fine thing to be, but
when it reflects back out of people's eyes
it loses something
in translation.