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these hands hold the pen above the page

these hands toss crows into the air

and finger the harlequin’s guitar

these hands knead this morning’s bread

these hands push the knife through to bone

and run down the length of your spine

these hands block the blinding sun

these hands deflect the abuser’s blows

and hold your hands to my heart

these hands pull flowers from the ground

these hands slide along your bare skin

and cover my shattered face as I weep

these hands reach out to catch the rain

and pull you closer through the night