Feb 6, 2025
Handled
Rough, practiced, confident fingers
trace invisible tattoos on my hip
dig into shoulder knots
pinch and rub and skim
along curves and dips
holding the parts I despise
in palms where hate doesn't live.
Can't you feel the angst leaking
between your knuckles
running like sand and collecting
like fragrant sweat on the sheets?
How unfair to be denied
the touch of admiration for 22 years
so grief overflows it's banks.
If I catch my breath & gasp
sometimes it's because that pain,
self-hatred more vile than an enemies',
stings or burns as it leaves me
driven out with calluses
scraped away by attention & investment;
service provided for the low price of L***.
