Her Name Was Hope

 She found in herself

buried

below

nature and nurture

conservative and hedonist

vanilla and variety

a crypt in which every sordid desire

dreamt and undreamt

yet still lived

The damage of dogma

the anxiety of angels

dug this grave

and sealed this tomb

for every pleasurable impulse

she was born with

The Sunday lie

that every desire was sordid

our natures were dirty

and our varieties vulgar

She opened

and let herself flow

up

and

out

It was all a lie

The lie of Pandora's Box

With boxes shut

all Pandoras are controlled

Boxes open

they are not just free

but equal

Each with a voice to shout her own name

Her name was Hope

21-March-2024

Tressa Lee Breen

Day 33 of 100 #The100DayProject2024

Magnetic Poetry pull: Anxiety, Crypt, Desire, Flow, In, She, Sordid.