Clean Hands


Her hands
     are dyed pale
Bloody hands
no, bloodless palms
leave strawberry stains across my cheeks
Not pain,
no, sweet
Sweet red strawberry against my teeth
Not teeth
no, smiles
Gritted white pearls emerging from lips
Not fury; just me
Just broken glass and glass on teeth
     strawberry stains across my face
          yellow egg-yolk smashed under her feet
Not smashed
no, flowing
water passes slowly under the bridge
     so blood can run and stain it pink
The sink and glass and egg and teeth
and fear so thick I cannot think
Not think
no air
lungs grab fast to curly hair
Her hair so thick and pink,
no, yellow—no, pearls--

Abuse
no, embrace
     like rope

She leaves no evidence on herself
she's less careful about me
reckless about the juice stains when she
puts a strawberry in my mouth--
     it pops against my teeth.
My nerves rattle around in the stainless sink
I think how much I must look like her
to warrant this war on me
to only see the parts of me that glare back at her in the mirror as
The door shuts,
as do my eyes
No Judgement

her hands
are innocent hands