Sanzo: Shall I lie in your lap?
Hakkai: No, my lord.
Sanzo: I mean, my head in your lap.
Hakkai: Aye, my lord.
But I promised Dickinson.
The soul selects her own society-
Then- shuts the door-
To her divine majority-
"Present no more- "
Unmoved- she notes the chariots- pausing-
At her low gate-
Unmoved- an Emperor be kneeling-
Upon her mat-
I've known her- from an ample nation-
Choose One-
Then- close the valves of her attention-
Like stone-
--emily dickinson, 303