The space between us feels vast
Thousands of years of looking
and not seeing
over a horizon of battlefields marked
with the footpaths of our ancestors
This holy nail. This crucifixion
handed down from one
hand to the other
both hands bleeding
holding each other
They call you a man
and me a woman
This time around, we seek our true names
Our place together
Our place in each other
to find the wound goes deeper
than we ever could have dreamed
Thousands of years of nailing
each other to the cross
I see now
Putting down this holy hammer
This armor
I will not go to battle with
you anymore
My son, my father
My lover, my other
My Self
Come,
We will plant flowers where the bodies have fallen
Water them with our tears
We will build houses of our crosses
Which will stand for thousands of years
Thousands of years of looking
and not seeing
over a horizon of battlefields marked
with the footpaths of our ancestors
This holy nail. This crucifixion
handed down from one
hand to the other
both hands bleeding
holding each other
They call you a man
and me a woman
This time around, we seek our true names
Our place together
Our place in each other
to find the wound goes deeper
than we ever could have dreamed
Thousands of years of nailing
each other to the cross
I see now
Putting down this holy hammer
This armor
I will not go to battle with
you anymore
My son, my father
My lover, my other
My Self
Come,
We will plant flowers where the bodies have fallen
Water them with our tears
We will build houses of our crosses
Which will stand for thousands of years