On a halo of memories clearly accentuated

By the divide between moments

She stands, holy and poised, by virtue

Of being one's own cathedral,

The engine of experience a pulse

Within where understanding and perception,

A combustion synthesized into purpose,

Radiates outwards the million colors of emotion

From that eternal ember of meaning

To warm the weeping faces of the world

With the sacrosanct gesture of the zygomaticus

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