Sunday, August 28, 2011

Stigma

We are all marked, in some way

Social imprints set us in places

In social spaces

Where we bruise ourselves on walls of clear and thick glass

How many ways are there to make a person into an object?

How many new ways will we invent?

How long will we hide our imperfections

behind those who can’t hide theirs?

Must we turn people into stone?

Must we freeze each other in such unflattering poses?

Come, oh great Namer and name us.

Yanks us from our surly word games that stop the life of the living;

Expose the hierarchies we construct with cards

And teach us something of love

Shatter the Glass!

Melt the ice!

Turn stone back into flesh!

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