Emily rates her friends by how much compassion
She holds all the cards in a thimble facing west
Mesmerized by the moment, she reaches for the sun
Holds it in her hand for a moment.
Rich soil yields yesterdays promise
For which all men will be in her debt
So rises the infatuation with myth and diversity
Sheltered by the failure to identify with any recourse
Mated to structures imperiled by destiny
Contorted to conform with classic identities.
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