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.
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