Once, we, too, were little worms.
At the dawn of evolution, we greeted the sun of a new day and basked in its rays.
We wriggled in muddy puddles, multiplied in number, and never thought about
where we were, how Mom was different from Dad, who our children were, why any of this existed,
or whether we could visit each other without an invitation.

That’s how we populated the planet.
The most voracious among us grew, gained weight, matured,
heard the Voice of God, and became humans—
that is, very big worms.
Now, we can’t make love without an invitation.
We don’t know why any of this exists.
We constantly think that Here is worse than There,
that Mom is better than Dad,
and that there’s a difference between one worm and another.

And so you crawled away from me to another worm with a better difference.
Now we’re in different puddles.
I am inconsolable and still don’t know why any of this exists.
I swallowed a chocolate candy and didn’t notice
that it was full of my voracious brothers and sisters.
Now, I hear the voice of my ancestors, the call of my true family:

"We love you—no matter who we are, no matter who you are.
We will never leave you or betray you because you are us.
You are not alone.
You are two.
You are many.
You are a muddy puddle basking in the rays of the spring sun,
evaporating into the blue sky."