Peter, let Stellan be a Moses,
and I, the new mother,
who finds him amongst the bull-rushes,
wrapped in the cloth of who he’s always been,
born of,
twain made a set,
of One flesh,
Love without time.
I will carefully guard the hearts in him,
he a bridge,
over the dark depths of manmade mountains,
save him from Egypt’s conspiring eyes,
of needles, for masks,
for the sink of socializing systems,
slaving for obelisk’s and temple-held grains.
I too,
was once eleven,
and the gap taught, that two lines on either side,
make a third, a river,
of ever living water, gliding parallel a star.
Photo credit: Elijah Mears c/o unsplash
This is very beautiful!!!
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