Incantation of the Hands


Hungry moons sit for the show of Hands
Ogle spider clutches with missing trines

Moth shattered into millions of fragments whole
Narrates with each beat of smudged shadow




Disgusting Beauty

Delicate Horror

Hands that buried us with rocks
Hands that lit us like cigarettes
Hands that dunked us Goddesses

Hands that welcomed us larvae
Hands that danced our plant magic
Hands that cried our parched earth

Slashes of white in the darkness
Fingers sink and float
For survival
What must perish?

These hands are ours

Will not be pardoned by washing

Only elements all

in a heart of remembrance

Reclaiming for whose gaze we stand