H.R.Powell

Wretched Hands

The same hands which have sinned

A hundred ways

Have bestowed a hundred acts of love

My hands

Have thrown pills down my throat

And cut my thighs with a razor

My hands

Have held crying friends

And healed creatures

My hands

Slapped my sisters face

And fought alongside her

My hands

Have prayed to the wrong gods

And built my spirit

Sometimes I wish to rid myself

Of these cursed hands

But memories of tender hearts

I’ve caressed my love into

With these twisted hands

Hold them fast