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    hairless bonobos

    I look at this human body
    and I know my species was not designed as warriors

    soft, armorless water-bag bodies
    I know these are not skins meant to withstand attacks
    clawless hands and dulled, small teeth
    I know these are not suitable weapons for striking blows

    for what did humans trade the usual gifts of self-preservation?
    how have we thrived despite our self-destructive inclinations?

    for I look at the swollen wetness of despair
    and I know that eyes were not meant for sight alone
    I look at the rising crowds
    and I know that tongues are but minimally intended for food

    I see this infamous 'thumb of humanity' as a sign
    that these bodies were meant to make, create, caretake
    thumbs are instructions to clasp, not cut
    other hands in the human chain of being

    Let not a single finger be wasted on a trigger

    For I look at this delicately crafted flesh
    and it confirms my soul's intuition that these bodies
    are not the hard bodies of fighters
    but the fragile bodies of lovers

    Copyright © by genderberg.com All Right Reserved.

    Published on: 2005-04-28 (1652 reads)

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