i cradle your brain in the basin of my hands and your inquiries settle into the lines of my palm like sediments in a river of fleeting glances i nudge you so gently into the corner staggering softly between the nerve endings of my hip constructing each cell tat makes up the contours that draw your eyes
mine
sketching the letters on the back of your hand as the dust of insincerity rings itself around your finger graceful hands and legs askew twitching and tentative eyelids propelled by tendons whose threads dissolve and fragment but never quite disappear
