It Stirs

Something within her moves,
A long unused muscle, perhaps,
Or a forgotten bone,
Than now comes out with creaks and cracks.

Something within her moves,
A dark sense of shadow, maybe,
Or a premonition,
That tells of what others do not now see.

Something within her moves,
A stirring in her ice cold heart,
Awakened by the one,
Who stands before her, forgetting his part.

Something within her moves,
And she knows this is her weakness:
She knows that at last,
Her secret he will finally guess.

The End

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