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The boats are empty.
The birds have taken
flight.
Emily is alone
on the sand. The sea
crinkles towards her.
This used to be
an economy. Now,
I take pictures of her
for my collection.
Nobody
is getting rich
& nobody gets to have
the girl.
Every day she picks
a new man. It's been me
for a while now.
I am called
the only capitalist
in this town
because of that.
These simple men never
believe
a woman
can be
a dictator of sorts.
I know I am poor.
I know she is the currency,
the government
& the church in total.
They must think each touch
from her is wealth.
It's something like that,
but you can't keep
joy on a cliff
long enough
without knowing gravity.
You cannot collect the shell
of an ecstatic.
Something that beautiful,
that moves like that,
was never in a shell.