we the implicated
we the intricated
we the strand and
bolt of fabric
woven tight like
mother’s love and
screaming child
we the wound and
tightly bound
embrace of love with
legs wrapped round
stab of hate from
brutal pound
both can occupy a
single space
we the median
the mean and limit case
we the x of
our equation
never puzzled to
solution
poised across the
equals sign is
you and you and you and
so many we
lose count
we the fruit of
our own labour
the whole
the sum of
all our parts
we the citadel where
nightfall sounds our fear’s
retreat behind the walls of
shut up hearts
let the daylight
draw us out to
smash the bolts on
ancient gates
pour through cracks in
crumbling ramparts
live together in
the fields let the
count of we increase with
the shock of
deep-tongued kisses and
the awe of
open arms