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Honor Thy Web.

It’s not just
about your node,
your intersecting strands.

It is not
that you are but a slave
and I am not,
but that you enjoy life
on your bruised
and bleeding knees,

bones peeking
through the wounds torn
in the skin, grinding
in the dirt, where the soles
of your goddesses
and gods find root.

It would not be nearly
as toxic
to me if your choice
did not ignore
my right to elect
other options.

All of them exist
far beyond the pale
now, so beyond your horizon
of the real, passed
all that you consider
the most wretched,
unholy, unpatriotic blasphemy,

straight into the heart
of what you have the gall
to call evil.

Can’t you see the forest
and the trees,
the grass as a community
of blades, the sky
as the eye burning
with stars that warp
the cosmic black sea
we occupy?

Honor thy web.
Nurture the net.
Ensure fertility
for the diversity,
fueling evolution,

ensuring survival.


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