The bonds are breaking down. Not the sensing threads that knit the world together, but the leadened barriers between our characterizations.

The heavy shell that surrounds I AM! WE ARE! YOU ARE NOT US! keeps separate the bright panes of glass and forms a neat and uniform picture, beautiful to behold but truth be told not one that reflects the tangle of roots and creatures generating life in the messy hollows beneath the forest floor.

Bright, colorful glass pictures – elevated and ideal – must be shielded from time-and-truth keeping stones. If thrown, they threaten to shatter the trance they shine upon the desperate eyes that seek them. Eyes that want to meet a gaze in a familiar color, safety in numbers, as long as we keep Us away from Them. This is the only way we know: raised in cages called salvation, thinking it was our choice to lay the lead and glass and try our best to live up to rigid portraits of liquid life.

Artificial lines upheld between blood and sweat meant to mingle through porous skin give rise to the sickness of stewing in the stagnant notion that this is how it has always been. It makes the acid rise from our bellies, pathologized and medicated so we can feel better about the theft of our sovereignty.

Don’t let them pour their manufactured remedies down your throat, let your belly churn and purge the poison. It will burn, but turn it like a canon upon the bonds of separation and let the world bleed together, dissolving into the elements, raw materials of regeneration.