We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and Men ran naked, blue and black Skinned into the warm embraces Of Sheba, Eve and Lilith. I was your sister. You left me to force strangers Into brother molds, exacting Taxations they never Owed or could ever pay. You fought to die, thinking In destruction lies the seed Of birth. You may be right. I will remember silent walks in Southern woods and long talks In low voices Shielding meaning from the big ears Of overcurious adults. You may be right. Your slow return from Regions of terror and bloody Screams, races my heart. I hear again the laughter Of children and see fireflies Bursting tiny explosions in An Arkansas twilight.