Seethe

Seethe, and bleed,
spread your lies
across the face
of our sea.
You will never rule us.

You and your rules,
your men spreading
holy lies,
your nice suits
implying judgment
on those of us
who, seeking mercy,
scuff our knees
and tear our shirts.

You don’t see
the sunset,
rosy-cheeked
as night stretches
her arms.

You don’t see
the sunrise,
a friendly face
after the long rebirth
of night.

You don’t see
the wine in the water,
the blood in the wine,
the bread in the blood,
the body in the bread.

Until you see,
unless you understand,
you will never rule us
no matter how many rules
you use to shackle
our ankles to each other
and to you.