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These Hands
These are new hands,
Hands that never touched me.
Hands that want to get to know me.
Hands that want to caress me.
Hands softer than the back of a fur coat.
Hands that give me life.
These are hands that remind me
Of the comforting touch of my father
After the slightest of falls.
These hands that told me they’ll never hurt me.
These hands lied to me.
These hands gave me a black and purple
Lining of hatred under my left eye.
These are hands that told me
I could never leave them.
And I listened.
These hands belong to him.

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