He Said it With His Hands

Ripped from the archives to share a turning point. When pain becomes the pen that lowers itself to paper and tears no longer make the ink bleed, it is time to heal.

 

He Said it With His Hands~

Summer was hot,

scorched in memories

of kisses in the shade

in back of

Granny’s place

where lemons hung

like swollen testicles

from sagging branches

of an ancient tree.

 

Love and pain met

became one

breath,

one measure

of a song that plays

where fingertips

dance,

and hearts remember.

 

“Love compliments,

it doesn’t critisiZe”

She said it

with deliberation

as though they

were the most

important words

ever heard.

Draped them over

a bruised shoulder

and deaf ears

with tears in her eyes.

 

He loved her.

Confused it with

fingers

that found their way

around her neck

to choke out

truth he didn’t want

to hear.

 

He needed her.

With rules

that would ensure

she never left

…. alive.

 

When he wanted her.

He said it with his hands.

2000 ©k~

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