May Our Quarters Never Be Dark? Poem by Mark Heathcote

A used condom, a discarded cigarette but
I am a monument to nonsense
So they say there is no smoke without fire
But where there are two lovers
There is always smoke
Smoke funnelling through-nostrils creating a fire.

May we be strong?
May we be activists?
May we feel like we belong?
May our hearts be loving advocates?

May we count our blessing?
May we stay forever innocent and young?
May we avoid drowning in extravagance?
May our tears always find a rainbow coalescing?

May we be loving converts?
May we be childlike always enquiring?
May we long open new hearts and minds?
May our quarters never be dark?

May we be tranquilly lit inside?
May we find gold-leaf in each other's margins?
May we never fight, kill or create, another genocide
May our ancestors stop stealing creating new misfortunes?

May we be strong?
May we be activists?
May we feel like we belong?
May our hearts be loving advocates?
That go tethered together as one, with just one song.