lefty

my right hand and 

my eyes in their pair 

my hands and what they wear

i work with gloves on all of my phalanges

frantically i protect every part of my me

for it is my influence on this dust in a sunbeam 

my right hand and 

my eyes in their pair 

i look upon endless clouds and start to stare 

at nothing, not in particular, i’m looking at it all at once 

it’s rough elsewhere, it’s an unfair affair

to be brought up where clouds can’t glow in pink puffs 

my right hand and 

my legs and their pair 

brining me, bouncing up valley paths 

i protect my legs by sitting in my chair 

my pair of eyes in my head sink quickly... 

sitting alone, in my hands, my eyes i catch  

a tool felt to feel 

my right hand and 

my heart and whatever else that’s real 

i’m sulking while scribbling into a book without pages 

i’m hoping my hands can notate art beyond ages 

my right hand and 

my eyes in this body 

they rob me of my mental autonomy 

i’m a cloud of ideas 

tied to a corpse full of energy  

a person is a collection of pieces 

most importantly, identity 

and secondly, memories 

all these bones and all this blood 

they are what make people feel loved

my sophisticated biological machine prejudges 

even what my right hand does 

so my right hand and

my body that i wear 

god willing, i goddamned

despair turns into prayer