Your hands go onto my forehead
to sweep hair out of my eyes.
Your hands go down to my neck
to choke me.
Your hands go back to my face
to wipe my tears and kiss me.
Your hands go onto my stomach
to feel our baby.
Your hands go to mine
for prayer to fix us.
Your hands go to our child
to hold her.
Your hands go gentle with her
not me.
Your hands go to your face
to wipe off the lipstick that I don't wear.
Your hands go to your phone to delete the messages.
Your hands go to my face
to slap me when I ask about them.
Your hands go to me daughters face
to wipe the tears and visions of abuse from her eyes.
Your hands go to your face
to cry when she asks her daddy the reasons why.
My hands go to our hands
to remove the rings.
My hands go to
My daughter,
her clothes,
my clothes,
the keys,
the car.
And hand in hand we travel.
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