held the world's ills in her hands
a young woman without complaint, brushes
the blood out of his torn shirt, give her the name of a thousand
nightingales for she can stand to carry a weight so heavy
there is something about opening
the box, who knew how many demons could pass
through one human heart and leave it intact?
Ask Pandora if she dares answer,
tongue turned inward by fear or what was left unopened.