She saunters on stage with lighters raised for her,

A soft encore following a loud performer.

With a gown for each night worn in the same order,

Taking time from us as we gain it back from her.

She’s like a lighthouse slowly spinning a message,

Building her glow until it becomes vestige.

A queen of precision every time she’s been tested,

And saunters off stage in her own way and own exit. 

~Poet of Ephraim

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