Personal Effects
Hands of smoke and gunpowder
Hands that said they wouldn't, but did
So the hands that said they never would, begin finding
A hand that is all our hands combined
Hands appear dead
a metal tongue of a fly
a metal tongue of a tank control board
a Bic lighter and loose leaf paper
a trigger, a shutter
his head
my hands
What I see are your hands
In your hands, the white dust
With your hands, whether or not
While his hands worked off a peel
