at the ends
of these arms
were never
designed to prepare
for war—
nor were they made
to clench
in censure, or even
to lie open and bare
in a gesture
of peace.
Rather, here are two hands
that were raised
to turn pages;
to brush back
and down, with the grain
of all dog fur;
to depress
small contingents
of congenial piano keys.
These hands were made
to shelter secrets
neverending—that is,
when they aren't
employed otherwise,
wiping clean and straightening
those treasures
which were made by the
stubborn hands of others
and are, therefore, exceptionally
worthy
of preserving.
