Tuesday, June 30, 2026

WRINGING MY FINGERS

It's a method 
of protection; 
a display of penitence;

the vaguest 
supplication, sarcastic 
but exact—

and I'm terrified 
because it's 

been a long time 
since I've done this—

and by "this," I mean 
stopped being "I."

*

These hands are so
stubborn, they have minds
of their own. 

When they sign, they've 
been known 

to send some 
very cryptic messages

which I'm certain 
I never
intended them to send.

*

There are times when heaven 
throws down a rope,

when these blackeyed and 
terrorized digits 
grab hold. 

Then, there are times 
when it feels 
like they're tweaking 

and combing every fold
of my brain like a rake 

just to try 
to figure out who 
was just speaking.