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


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