We are wrong.
True independence is a clever illusion,
For the world will impatiently ask
To follow the throng,
Taking you into the painful shards of collision,
When you refuse to wear that mask.
But don’t fall on this sword,
For the embrace of the eyes flows with meaning…
Atop of the world they reside
Made into Goddess and God.
Divorced from compulsion, but not from the feeling,
In the freedom of nothing to hide.
The two are the song.
An explosion of tenderness not to conceal anymore…
Stepping close into that space from afar,
The true freedom is born,
A breathtaking point between him and her…
The freedom to be as you are.