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.
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