The Prophecy

I click down the hallway

Truly a goddess divine

Too good for their world,

I watch as their eyes number my sins.


They prophesy: I am damned forever

For the length of my skirt

For the sight of my skin

For the trail of my fingertips


They look to my right: he is spared hell

Despite his distortion of my marble pedestal into rotting wood

Despite his gleaming skin laid bare

Despite his hunger for my flesh


They cast their stones;

But I am already long gone.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country


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