“Beautifully Oppressive”

she called my work
“beautifully oppressive”  
did she mean like the stifling pall
of equatorial heat?  
what lines had I writ
to elicit such truthful and prodigious
adverbs and adjectives?  
I can not recall being more flattered  
or believing more that it mattered  
what one said of my
delirious desultory delusions,
my petty pecking indulgences…
I believe I was recalling a dream  
that spoke of elusive, fickle salvation,  
the perennial  curse of the chosen ******,
and their haunting hunger for implacable peace  
when I evoked that response from her  
“beautifully oppressive” to feel such a fate?  
the promise of heaven for those trudging through hell?  
what other beautiful oppressive story could I tell?