With all it’s magnanimity, it broke through her window panes, the storm. she stood there, it’s salient feature, glued to the ground; with a quiet that stilled her. oh how cold her feet felt! It came. it embraced. a warmth it gifted. and it blinded her. yes, she indeed remembers her eyes glittering! from end to end, she was then thrashed, polished and a renascence was born. or may be this was just her. who is to know! she wailed, she clenched and then she looked up. it was gone, the storm. and there she was, lying orphaned, tearing smiles after smiles, painting the many perfect postcards that she granted each one of you.
the storm made her anew
it was here to stay
somewhere deep
quietly within her.

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