Who is truly pure?
A wise woman once
Told me, in a voice
I imagined as thoughtful,
That there is no
Existence of innocence,
And that we are all
Just at different
Degrees of guilt.
To her I now say,
You are more right
Than I would have guessed.
I see this truth,
In the tears of a victim
And the eyes of a rapist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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