billow in the wind
like sails of ships
blanc de fard
blanc de chine
Hands that hurt me
I would take you in my own
If I could
And I would lead you, lead you home
I really would.
And I would rub away the headaches
And I would soothe the throbbing fear
And I would suck that selfish poison
From your blood
and spit it on the ground
And help you, help you leave it there.
And I would drag you to tomorrow
And I would beg you – feed your soul!
And with these fingers piece by piece
I’d piece you – till you were healed and whole.
Oh, dear and undone hands that nearly broke me
I would have helped till I did break.
But happiness, heaven, wholeness, and healing –
That is your choice to make.
Are you the pleasant antidote
To all these words?
It isn’t punishment
A just punishment
I will gladly take.
It’s the injustice
It’s the lies
That creep under my skin
And burn like ice.