Pandora, In Parts

Daily Poetry: Prologue

I’ve been worshipping at the wrong altar. What I thought was love was Pandora, and I became fixated on the woman-made man; the man-made woman.

There is no space here for poetry. This comes from the icy-hot feeling in my chest when I think of you. This comes from all the burning of cigarettes smoked for you.

No, there’s no room for poetry here.

Not anymore.

I’m reclaiming Pandora.

I’m putting her back in pantheon.

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⚠️DAILY POETRY ALERT⚠️

Over the next few days, I will share a poetry project I had hoped to publish with a small press, but I simply no longer have the patience to wait to be chosen.

Art is for everyone.

Poetry, doubly so.