After Pandora

Folder: 
Hyacinth garden

A jar bound, sealed and softly glowing.
Using thoughts (and sometimes experiences) to arouse is she a sleek statuette.
Hips fashioned like statements that hint of androgyny.
Nostalgic for the mythic past we are willing for all the good things of the earth.

Disbelief in the idea that an earnest personality will do anything taboo.
A ball in a jar an exotic object, do not open it please, please open it do.
Against the tide of years, poetry will provoke.
Sinking to her knees, she lowered her brow until it touched the top.
Disarm the rapture with your smile impulsively commit the last transgression.
Attempt to scavenge into that place where imagination infects.
She wields her body to overwhelm unseemly; it is an exhibition of a slave dominating her master.
Combine sexual passions with equally fanatical desires to destroy.
Free from the yoke driven to command every petition that will eclipse and undo chained locks.
Go down ignominiously begin a torrid tango the engine pulls a train down off a dark track.
Disturbed, confused, broken, awkward, difficult, dark, wilting into the callous.

Only hope remains, only love restrains...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Two years to the day.

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