I Met a Lady

By Rosa Caswell

I met a lady. She was so beautiful it was soul splitting. I hoped she would tempt you, but tempting is a low art to her. She hides in a world no one ever wants to go. I stumbled into her world a while ago, but only met her yesterday. I never wanted to be here, fought it, avoided it, feared it. But now I might not ever leave. She is that beautiful. That kind.

Kindness without end... no, that's not true. There is a border to her country. A wall a mile high because some must be ruthlessly rejected. Rejection is not something she ever wanted. With gentleness she disguises her kingdom like a Wakandian. Outside it appears to look dirty and full of disease. "You might get aids," the bill board sign says. Closer... "the most violent crime." Closer.... "You can never leave once you enter." Closer... "corruption".... "anger".... "loneliness".... "rejection." But to its borders I came, wheels spinning and I hung my head in shame. Accepted that I didn't have what it took to remain in the land of kings, and walked over the crossing.

I have been wandering here for a while. Slowly the spell of the other world has lifted and now I see. Hidden here are the people that will never reject you in your lowest moments; who would die to save you; who will stop just to say hello. Here is a purity of heart that cannot be touched by corruption. Here the anger flashes but always passes. Here the violence is returned with love. Her arms embrace the lowest. She kisses the disease. Here shame is driven away at the point of her sword. The signs that seemed to warn me of what I was about to enter were only a description of what was being left behind....

This place has a name. Do you want to know? Should I break this fearsome women's rules and tell you her name? I am reckless enough. *Whisper* Poverty. Lady Poverty.