If I was first created
from clay and water,
adorned with nature’s beauty
and a gown of silver threads;

if Athena taught me needlework,
my speech was a gift from Hermes,
and Aphrodite gave me grace;

if the world was contained
within a slice of time,
where the past could be erased,
and the cares of yesterday;

if there were no more lies
about true love, no more sin
or temptation, just faith,

I would still want to know
what was in the box,
curiously opening the lid,
to see what lays within,
leaving only hope captive;

should I be blamed, like Eve,
for all of eternity?


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