(old work) my question, her answer

If I were to find an answer
She would be laced with the same impurities I possess
Placed among others that don’t exist
I would find her floating among every other clone
I would take her hand and lead her through the smog
Where she can see clearly again.
Once she can see she will fix herself
Then tend to my slated state

Through an eternity of fear, loathing, and mistrust
Weve found each other

Through a glass window
We watched the rain pour through the winter
Often checking with our hands out to see if we could capture a drop
But it slipped through every time
We seen the flowers wilt and die in the summer
But we felt no heat

But feeling your cold touch has awoken my spirit
And in turn mine has awoken yours

My question was
Why
And my answer was her