before we built the walls

 

before we built the walls, there were none between us at all.

in that freedom of openness we reveled and revealed ourselves,

passing tenderly into sacred spaces;

we worshipped in wild abandon and were each the other’s best defender.

when first we built the walls, we were safe together inside them.

deep within our fortress, we opened all our doors, even ones that

had never opened since the day they’d been shut,

in places we didn’t even know. inside were animals,

the fruits of our wounds, and we suffered hurt from their unleashing

where we had never hurt one another before.

after the bloodshed, there were walls built between us

and now we walk alone, haunted by the other’s ghost

in a picture turned a negative, wondering how we may

return to the land we lived in before we built the walls.