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Mar 2016
Upon closer examination,
my hands, my history.

Irregular sized summaries, slightly worn,
like gloves, marked down for the discount table,
my creases covered up underneath genesis survivors,
a 'handful' of youthful blonde hairs,  
failures to depart as requested.

Refuseniks to time's ravages,
mockery makers,
yet, cohorts of, in cahoots with,
wave machines, breaker bringers of tidal decay,  
gray color content providers,
to the balance of my body.

Nicks and grooves, crisscross stitches,
vanity repairs to counting down lifelines,
one million billion cells,  
wreckage of death stars, jails for membranes,  
forgetful fabric memorizers, crumbled fractures,
patches designed by an unknown haute couturier,
failed revisionist of the original conception.

All our hands.

Upon closer examination,
Jubilee finale, arrival day of the  
mythical Halcyonian,
the date, initialized,^
even DVR future recorded,
visible, right there, upon
on all our hands, all our history.

Source coded in a language for which 
a Rosetta stone, yet undiscovered,
but visible, right there,  
on all our hands, all our history.

Halcyon bird,
comes when it comes,
though we, always, surprised,
oblivious to the obvious.

Halcyon bird,
coming, to calm, and to lament loss,
coming, to still wind and wave within
the heart, repair the deepest rent.

So these words, caresses,
coming, to calm and to lament,
from my hands to yours,
asking modestly, for acceptance.


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^http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/halcyonian

(Halcyonian, a mythical bird, said to have the power of charming winds and waves into calmness, associated with death)
Nat Lipstadt
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  120/M/nyc
(120/M/nyc)   
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