She,
I think,
Would be Stephanie
A love I didn’t know I needed
A friend from a Friend
Both martyred
For, what are true friends for?

She,
Stephanie,
Would have gifted me
A kind word
A wise word
Both since otherwise elusive in my world
For, looking back, what did I expect?

She,
Steph, we’d have called her,
Would be a poem -nay, is a poem
A poem and sister to a brother
A work of art with no end, they are
Both Epic story-songs
For, hear thou, their lyrical air?

She,
Stephanie,
Would be safe from me now
A sword of truth having pierced my soul
A prayer of forgiveness asked
Both to self and sin, I desire to die
For what, but abandonment, is there?

She,
Stephanie,
Would be thirty soon
A soul eternal
A girl, a woman
Both alive
For, ‘tho I don’t deserve, why too am I?