My lover’s hand is a traveller
Mapping my body’s coordinates
The very angle where earth, space and heat
A traveller’s hand is a child
An innocent grasping for new things
Stories, memories, images, sleep
A nostalgic desire for old things
Stories, memories, images, simpler times.
A child’s hand is a woman
An enduring, present life force.
A woman’s hand is an amen
Paper-thin wrinkles clasped in prayer
Moulding shit into fire kebabs
Pulling life from the dredges of drying earth
Cradling souls that wander
Far towards the end of the sun
A passioned hunger
Ever at their heels.
Cover Image: Sadia Marium