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  • The woman keeps it altogether in tightrope-cut precision:
    with scalpel-flicker she completes elaborate incision,
    See her inch her way across the rope-bridge ‘cross the abyss,
    one sniffle, one false step, one single miss,
    she never dare relinquish the tightness of control.
    Thin-lipped, focussed, she answers every call.
    No pause to dream and ponder, no luxury of why.
    In cakes she bakes her rancour. Her revenge is sly.
    She steams the iron with regret, refines her every move.
    Perfection is the aim or else her whole life will disprove.
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