thorn

(9.28.19 prison letter)

hey enemy,

I almost forgot……………. I cannot hate you.. writing this in long hand... it slipped my mind and then slipped through my heart… I mustn’t despise you… I made you as you are.. I’m reminded…..

I cannot see and I need not see .. for faith (James 1.5-7). I need not crawl from under my skin, I am no thorn..and you I have not yet met… but I see you …. you use your eyes, spying the plank in mine.. a hard slap for I the apologist, the moralist..(hold on).. I can not protect the fleshier parts from the truth in spirit. I am no thorn (James 1.22–25).

hey enemy,

I doubt you can believe me with my mouth closing to you, my arms closed to you, crossed.. I have not yet learned to walk. what judge have you become?..I say it, I will not hate still there is blood in the prayer… the prayer is in the song.. and the anger, the anger once bold and loud, the anger once ruffled, stomping, clucking… the anger slides down the eyelash into the slumber ( James 1.20).

tell me enemy,

is sleep the submission withheld.. the submission I refused to give? is it a crucible to melt the locks from wings and talons..or perhaps merely another elemental clash.. listen through moistened eyes.. I can hum this song.. warming my enemy as a function of new law.. held broken like tablets…. this law..

art credit : “Down with colonialism!”, USSR, 1950s