Emily

Through report the world came to you, corresponding through reclusion on terms your own. Your first-rate grasp of third-hand knowledge, coupled with a dash of hesitancy, and you were THE "it" girl of the next era. Existence-like pure pre-existence. Recognizing your own genius , even when no one could see your face -- Your mirror, yours alone. You cocooned your body ( a white shroud ) to preserve, what? A voice. Some idea(l). Wrapped in light, a utopia constructed of hedges, afraid to step beyond your own garden, but more fearful still not to write your way Beyond.