Tuesday, May 31, 2011

White Hands

Red hands bloodied by four hundred years
And not at least one drop has permeated this skin.
Black hands, blackened only by the ink in which I immerse them.
I need more to continue this
I need experience I can call my own
I hold up white hands to help
And know that I am still not ready because
I think of them this way.
When my hands are ready that is all they will be.
Ready hands

Spring 2000

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