the edges

trapped in my own body. 

in a body politicized and compartmentalized. 

by everyone. 

the oppressor and the oppressed. 

longing for connection to my humanity. 

to the humanity of others. 

but only a few scattered pieces of our selves ever connect. 

we are alienated, our solidarity standing on relativity. 

not even love can transcend the separation drawn by identity. 

can it?