Looking down at the object in her lap,
A single shoe with intertwined laces.
Each time she laced a pattern,
She would look down
Because it seemed so wrong to her.
But the more she laced,
The more she continued,
She started seeing the vision
Of a perfectly laced shoe.
It finished, produced,
Sat on her thighs,
Beneath her eyes.
And the phrase that came to her...
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