She,
lost and trapped,
would never fulfill
her divine purpose.
Instead,
I saw her.
Old lake front habits surfaced,
and I reached out
to remove her.
But then,
I stopped,
placed her gently back.
We had a moment.
Her dainty body
unexpectedly
lifted my spirit
and beautified my world.
Then,
like an angel,
she climbed higher,
and vanished,
leaving only the memory
of her
with
and in
me.
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 
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