I raised my hand
and asked what the story meant.
They told me,
“There’s as many meanings to this story as
there are readers.
It’s your story.”
I asked about a symbol.
“Symbols are deep and personal,
connected to the collective unconscious,
but ripe for the taking.
It’s your symbol.”
I took a story and a symbol
and hung them around my heart.
They told me,
“Take it down!
That story is wrong.
That symbol means hate.”
I should never have raised my hand.