your hands have known too many passengers
held to many things
but you still bloom with ancient hieroglyphics
that light the now hours of this sunset veil
and I promise to always shelter you
from the train wrecks
and help you count the moments
that don’t leave bruises on your heart
and for the ones that do I swear
I will knit away at them to keep you protected
because flowers of war
are beautiful when grown together