Our Hands

Our Hands

I straightened your picture- you know the one on the wall
And then wiped at the borders- I haven't forgotten us at all.
On your picture is what's missing from my real- yourself.
I pick you up and cling to you, and set you on another shelf.

I love you so, your smell, your life, your every breath you take
I love your fingers as they create
As they support the choices you choose
You know- the boundaries you keep… and the borders you lose.

That fight when I cried and grabbed for you- missed and hit the dirt.
I am now without your touch, with your silence,- alone in my hurt.
My heart, My hurt, My wounded tears,
Winged Anguish Flying now,Five years.

I said I'd keep your wish and I would let you be
You said this was not your wish- your wishes were not about me.
I am nothing to you now I know
Why do I let this hurt me so?

I straightened your picture on the shelf, and snagged
That me in your picture was but a reflection of my- self.
The hurt in my sad drags in my life
As she gets your wishes as being your wife.

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