Because although I did meet the god of good taste
He felt hollow to me
I saw others around me bowing and scraping to him
And even when I believed,
I was wrong not to participate
In the ritualistic offerings of my authentic self,
In order to survive and thrive in my environment
At the risk of being crushed
The quirky awkward parts of me didn't assent and,
Their embedded smoldering coals,
Held tightly my joy and life force.
And now having emerged
And I say this boldly, while holding my breath,
As it's so new and fragile
That there is no thing on the earth I want to possess.
And no one worth envying.
Just delighting in.
—Jean Lopez
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