So you think
it’s naïve
to protect the bodies
of those
who threaten
to upend
this comfortable
way of life?
So you think
they deserve
to suffer,
their transgressions
unforgivable?
I wish
you were with me
in the Prado,
standing before Velázquez’
Cristo Crucificado.
The buckled body
hangs
on the Cross
against
a black background,
bruised,
bloody,
but glowing.
It is impossible
to be distracted.
No clouds, no sky.
No criminals
on the right or left.
No disciples.
Just the body,
the wood,
and the knots
in the wood.
