I’ve been told my whole life
I was born to the throne.

Instructed toward ownership.
Forced to trust in my own authority,

however lightly I carried it,
however little I wanted it.

Grew to reject it,
to surrender my place,

or so I thought. Sondra,
though — Sondra tore

the veil when she said,
“I am a woman, born

and built for sedition,”
and instead of agreeing,

something moved in me
and behind it, I glimpsed fear

and resistance
and only behind that was the face

I knew was my own true face,
and it looked free,

and not at all like the one
I call my own.