She is what she is because she is, and does what she does
because she does it, loving having nothing to do with it in the place she finds
herself, needed to squeeze the last drops of juice from the lemon life gave
her, to make the best of what she did not make up for herself, she being what life
has given her, and so, takes this as far as the world lets her, a drop in the
bucket she needs to fill to the brim, if not quite lemon aid, then something equally
bitter sweet, not love, not exactly, but enough, and may more than what love
would give her anyway.
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