Is are Wes
Too many walls have emprisoned our otherselves,
for too many generations,
for too long a time,
in too lonely a space,
in too scary a place.
We are free now, from these walls,
we are free now, from these pains.
Too many labels have emprisoned our otherselves,
in boxes unfit,
in borders uncouth.
Too few letters have emprisoned our otherselves,
in Is too seldom used,
in Is that should have been Wes.
Why are Is capitalised and wes made dull?
Is really are Wes, for we are but multitudes, nothing but multitudes.
Like the stars in our skies, our numbers are uncountable.
We burn and we shine, and in beauty we die.
Like the leaves on a tree, our boundaries are porous.
We breathe and we sing, and in beauty we die.
Like the cells of our skins, our surfaces are manifold.
We stretch and we rest, and in beauty we die.
