Dumped in Dachau*

At birth we are given a number
It is social... but whether we turn out that
Way is a whole different barrel of
Concentration Camp clothing.

We learn early on to: line up,
Fall in, fall in line and crazily
Fall in love... with another number
Of potential numbers.

IQ of 56 not a good match.
IQ of 144 maybe too much...
Average these two and you have
100 - and this is what we want -

From each other: 100% of each others'
Hearts, minds, souls - everything.
We don't want to know where we end and
You begin - we want what Aristotle said,

"...a single soul inhabiting two bodies."
When ripped apart a gaping hole where
The other used to be - a siamese twin
Removed, not surgically - but cruelly.

Without regard, as much to the surroundings...
She became a number expunged from the heart,
Crudely tattooed on the arm - a blight, a reminder,
Of what couldn't be and didn't survive the ride

On the boxcar that slowly rushed to the furnaces of
Inhumanity - left to walk the stony path, alone,
Hearing the crunch beneath her feet mimic the sound of
Her breaking heart after being dumped in Dachau.