For Gabby

When a woman can soar through space like this, She never listened to twittering voices in hell That spat out her name, called her a "Flying Squirrel.” She learned to glide above the poison in their hiss, Sneers that would bind her under their spell.
When a woman can soar through space like this She is lifted on high by our ancestor's bliss Rising from the Atlantic to the Gold Coast's groundswell And centers her small frame where beauty and grace dwell— When a woman can soar through space like this.

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