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She wore a ribbon of blue around her neck.
Whether it hid some remnant line, she'll be the last to tell.
Her smile belongs to someone who's been there and back, and there again.
Knee-deep in the swales, holds her tongue even when
the swill half fills her lungs – that's where she plants herself still.
Not so long ago, she had an easy effervesce.
Every eye upon her smiling wiles... effortless.
"The trick," she'll tell you – helpful, for a sip –
"is giving Giving Up The Ghost
the slip."
Inscrutability.
"No way, no how, no one sees inside of me."
Ocean crust obscures, so there's no visibility.
She's magnetic north, no matter which way she faces,
bending the Horizon Line, blending time.
And space is in her hands.
She's a gorgeous force, rattling everyone's cages.
Ageless blue eyes, patient as the sky rages on and on and on.
I will take you in.
I. Will. Take. You. In.