I know there’s a wound. But this is not how to heal.
You know entrenched shame. But this is not how to speak.
Come here and drop your weaponry. Come feel
what you are; where you’re strong and where you’re weak.

I know the floor’s rough and your mouth is full
of bitter sweat, of salty empty crime.
I know you’re lost because of how they pull
you close shove it in your face call it fine.

But that is over now. That’s yesterday.
Please join me here in today’s wider world.
We’ll make some friends and find a place to stay.
We’ll lay our head upon the dog that’s curled
up on the rug near firelight’s zagging glow.
We’re free to love — to live beyond what we know.

Author: Sam Spaded
Editors: AW/BW
Copyright: AMW