Until every new breath is taken
from the mouths of the dead,
bones of the slaughtered
are stacked like bricks for your shelters;
Until the blood of the children,
has watered the gardens,
flowers grass trees grow
on mounds of the murdered;
Until you have eaten
the mud and the straw,
washed clean your body
in the purple rivers;
Until clothes are cut
from flags of your enemies,
heads are covered
with their holy books;
Until history is carved
on your backs with machetes;
Until people paint dreams
on your fences and buildings,
tile shrines with their ghosts;
Until compassion pours down,
pools at your feet,
seeps into your socks
fills up your boots, covers
your knees, unsteadies your hips,
Until you can’t wade, can’t walk,
can’t swim, can’t go back to the sea,
Until an empty lot is endless resource,
your darkest devastation is transformation;
Until your weakness is equalized
by the hands of need;
Until compassion
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