With Hands That Remember
This heart of stone—
crystallized rage, fractured, shimmering to the surface.
Love languished,
longing to embrace the dead.
Hands digging into the flesh of the earth,
reaching in desperation for the corpses beneath.
The seasons turn—
grinding the fragments of life to dust,
until he sets fire to the things he loves
just to dance with the ashes,
to animate what’s been lost
with one last burning.
A hopeless romantic,
clinging to his lover as she seeps like smoke through his fingers.
He inhales in desperation,
wishing for her to fill the void once more—
and with the wind, she fades,
drawn to a place beyond the reach
of hands that still remember how to hold.
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