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“It's late, and my phone is in hand, note page open. I blink and see my father kneeling before my mother. People bowed to him, but he never asked me to. I chew my lip and tap out a poem. For her. For him. For me. I will keep you safe gather around you like a shield, like a barn in a storm, like the fire around the sun, let me shelter you.” — Emiko Jean

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It's late, and my phone is in hand, note page open. I blink and see my father kneeling before my mother. People bowed to him, but he never asked me to. I chew my lip and tap out a poem. For her. For him. For me. I will keep you safe gather around you like a shield, like a barn in a storm, like the fire around the sun, let me shelter you.
— Emiko Jean