Tagged: hands

my six aunts and

my six aunts and
uncle gather around
grandma’s hospital
bed, allowing
the performance of
procedure to overtake the
art of living.
Their hands
are collectively
tied in the pursuit
of individual
blamelessness.

grandma looks
on, one against
six, a tube down
her throat, mindful
of cumulative losses.

as in every
situation, time
flexes its
muscles, taunting us
to hold on or let go
while duty,
devotion, and rivalry
measure us for both
.
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perhaps life and death

perhaps life and death
start with a cab ride, meter
running, waiting for

a destination – my hands are
deep in these pockets, searching
.
20180502:0750
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there are moments when

there are moments when
i feel sick thinking about
it – what to do, what

to say, where to put my feet,
my hands, opened or closed, my heart
.
20180331:1509
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grandma’s recipe,

on the nth day of

on the nth day of
summer, we made a few
more discoveries,
hand in hand, arms
swinging towards
home, luck in our
steps. a new
Hedera helix hanging
planter finds its rhythm
alongside us, ready
to climb towards
the stars at our window
.
20170913:1705
y

in every moment

in every moment
of forgetting, hearts splinter,
words look for throats in

which to get caught, hands clasp and
unclasp, learn to build bridges
.
20170912:2023
y

a handful of hours

a handful of hours
before sunrise,
your thumb
has discovered
the outer
corners of my
pinky. i have
forgotten
where triggers
go to hide
.
20170301:2008
y