Hands as Rain Whisper and Wait

The rubber band bites, so good,

In the skin—like kiss—as blade.

 

A blessed red face, giving of marks,

To remember her, along the bone of an eye.

 

“It keeps me tethered to you, just as red,” I said.

Just like hands made from rain whisper— “enough.”

 

When it is.

 

*

 

Clouds serrated, above our heads,

If we had the strength—we’d leave trails behind.

 

Or

 

I could just lift you above my head, push you through,

In the vague hope you’ll climb higher than me.

 

Learn: The haze between us—(the same mist of

Heaven—we dug our fingers into once)—waits.

 

& It always has.

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