32

With one word,

I see myself crossing the divide,

Angels dressed like honour guards,

Standing on each side,

Of a bridge

Connecting my heart and mind.

And I see you

A latter day wing,

Teaching the mute to sing,

And the crippled to glide.

With one word,

I am stripped of my purple heart,

My plea for clemency denied,

Discharged,

Expelled,

Forced to hide.

With one word,

The illusions collide,

And a jasmine bud is born

Underneath my ceded pride.

*

Copyright 2019