When she is old, at play in her mind – configuring,
what of her heart's emotional heft will linger?
What in its rediscovery will she try to savour,
there in the metropolis of her soul and its frantic precincts?
Will a mind, still hers, pry open, shifts at a time,
faint images suppressed behind unacknowledged interludes?
Will a poetry pull her voice forward, away from boredom,
inciting her pulse to twitter as it occupies various positions?
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