Friends.
Boyfriend, girlfriend.
Husband, wife.

These are the perverse pigeon holes
Into which we are neatly crammed.
They are the rules we must play by
The strict code we must abide by
The values are parents taught us by
The noose society will lynch us by.

These breeding pigeon holes of disease
Have their occupants chained
With their bodies maimed
Their souls scarred.

Beyond this place of chained love
There is a place, a state of grace
Where the scarred souls
Unbend their stiff limbs
And bathe in the flowing waters of redemption
Their bloodied beliefs washed clean

Their healing bodies
Bask upon the welcome beach
While the sun warms their hope
And fills the void
Of disillusionment and grief

As a spectacular red drowns the horizon
They rise and yield to the dance
As blood returns to their veins
They cast away their chains

Upon the beach of abandon
Bracelets jingling with delight
Tears cascade, bodies swayed
Faces shining their divine light.