Abominable

"You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination"

but yet you greeted me, 

"My soul is bound to yours."

stripping off your robe

handed off in the name of a father,

(or perhaps a Mother)

shedding your bow and belt,

and the Sword around your waist.

I found myself thrust upon it, 

between the breaths and spit

screaming that I am abominable.

​

I recall your songs and social

(they said we were simply social)

yet I gave you all I had, 

proclaimed my love to living,

living as I loved you.

and in the final parting, 

in light of my father's sparing

I knew that i had become abominable.

​

No last words spoken

could hide the sorrow I knew was growing

as I fled your arms into the night

and grief overwhelms as I heard the tell

that the son of the Lord's anointed had fallen

and the abomination of that solemn day fell. 

​

That sword I carried, the arrows I shot. 

Flying fleeting as I fell

wearing a crown of forget-me-nots.

How great is the loss of leaving you!

As I climb up rungs fearing for what I've done

have I become abominable?

​

Brother, how greatly I mourn thee!

I tore my clothes into a great song

for greatly beloved were you to me

wonderful were you, over the love of women

for, for you

I became abominable. . . 

​

Words by Xi Stoddart, inspired by 1 Samuel (NRSVUE) and Leviticus 18:22