(From a 10 poem ekphrastic series:    Artemesia’s Revenge  In Honor of Artemesia Gentileschi)

No matter what they do to me, 
I say, “It is true. It’s all true.”   

Why will the judge not listen to my plea? 
I say, “It is true. It’s all true.”   

When will this trial reach its apogee? 
I say, “It is true. It’s all true.”   

Can they not accept my honesty? 
I say, “It’s true. It’s all true.”   

And now they use the sibille. 
I say, “It is true. It’s all true.”   

They will make my hands a bryony. 
Again and again I say, “It is true.”