Pygmalion ( a piece earlier than this blog)

Pygmalion

From her place of Adoration
Satin smooth cold marble
She rises
Unlocks the shackles
Slips off.
Free of imposed expectations
She is her own Mistress
All is Hers
To Give or Deny.
Below her the wailing of supplicants
Chalice denied to the
Accolytes of
The God of Death.
Claims of Promises broken and ownership lost.
Promises that SHE never made.
That she will not keep
For which she will not
Answer.
She will not join in their fevored furied funerary rites.
Functional demise over the cliffs
Political propaganda on the wide screen
Celebrating her exhaulted servitude.
She snaps the black leather of her jacket
Over her shoulder
She slams solidly the door
Which echos in the hall
Behind her.
They can keep wanting and wailing
She chooses Life and Freedom
Cool wind kisses her face
Darkness embraces her.
11/07/05