i've seen your hands on every side
the hand of love the bastard pride
the one you lay on one you clap
the one you hide there in your lap
the hand you grip with or caress
the hand that tidies up your mess
i've watched one hand swear faith and true
with one hand crossed love's lost to you
if you were even half the man you
hope
to
be
you'd only offer open palms
to
me
but one hand dips and strokes the
ripples on love's tide
the other grips a fist of dirt
and throws just grounds aside
with one hand clenched against
the other, soft the ripples turn to waves
one hand, fierce with fear,
slaps the spirit one
hand saves
with one hand you invite all in
with one you brush aside
you only bring your hands together
to applaud yourself your pride
with one hand, pick a flower,
the other, pick a pill,
to lose yourself and wonder at
the power of your
will
if you were even half the man you
hope
to
be
youd only offer open palms
to
me
one hand may judge what I deserve
the other, tied, has lost its nerve
with one you wave with one enslave
one hand to tremble one to hold
but now i've seen what little all
your gestures mean once dipped
twice cleaned within the puddle left
of what were overflowing dreams
tell me, my old lover,
with which hand to make a friend?
you offer diamonds with one hand but
which card deals out in the end?
if you were even half the man you
hope
to
be
you'd only offer open palms
to
me
but I get two
closed hands to take
with one you push
which one to shake?
© 1999 Rebecca Rennie
