Eight, Maybe Nine

She enters through the door
I see her. Her eyes opaque.
Eight. The weight of her heart.
Eight, maybe nine.
The arduous path
under her vigor. She climbs.
Her strength takes a deep breath;
her unspoken words
permeate
the room,
the mind,
the heart.
She exits the building
yet,
never leaves.
The weight of her heart
Eight, maybe nine.

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