blood speckles my hands
like the poppy seeds on your morning bagel
shaking at a crime scene bedecked with plastic yellow tape
but only noticing my hands
dried crimson
and how the light flakes of my silk flesh delicately rise to
the surface like oil in a vast cerulean ocean
no spirit can drown the sorrows of my sins

still
you come at me with your pepper sunlight
you and your dandelion ways
a comedic smile
strawberry jam heart preserves

a hand holds many things
except a fighting chance


and
some way
some day      
some how



I'll be average at best