Handprints
The hands that have touched me left their fingerprints on my soul
A mothers love, her warm cheek resting against the crown of my head,
Her hand on my back as I lay against her chest, rocking, rocking, rocking
The tight grasp of our small hands as our friendship blooms and blossoms,
running through tall grasses in search of the perfect hiding spot
Here I come ready or not
Searching hands that explore boundaries of forbidden fruits
as adolescense erupts; confusing, qustioning, memorizing,
warming the flesh of the fingers that stroke
Handprints engraved onto the granite of the body sculpted
by these curious hands
Hands that shaped and defined love: soft carresses, warm hugs,
hands placed on each of my cheeks as you led me gently into your kiss
Fingers twining the hair at the nape of my neck, splayed at the
small of my back as you gather me to you, comforted in your embrace
head resting upon your chest, the drumming of your heart in my ear
Angry hot hands that lash out without a moments notice, no time to duck
Grasping and grabbing, twisting limbs, hands that sear the flesh
branding handprints upon my skins and tattooing my soul with your pain
The braille you leave upon my body, white scars each telling a story
And yet I forgave you as you cried and begged me to forgive you
confusing this for love
The unnamed rage levied against me, assulting, humiliating and degrading
You smile at your prey, animalistic, tearing and thrusting
You, not even aware that I am there, so carried away in your acts of anger
You confuse this with passion, perhaps lust as I cower beneath you
You rape my body, my mind and my soul leaving me broken as you walk away
Damaged I recede into myself building layers of scar tissue to insulate
against the inhuman acts of humanity. There is no humanity only greed
and need aimed at self fulfillment. You don’t feel my pain, my shame,
only your release and the short disapation of your anger as you continue
I exist, closed off from all emotion, no joy or fear, cowering from touch
It takes a small spark to ignite an inferno that burns to the depths of my core
Memories of handprints lovingly melded into my flesh and the muscle of my heart
float gently to the surface creating a need that must not be ignored
Longing for that comforting hand that soothes the flesh, words that calm the mind,
arm draped comfortably across my shoulder as my head leans against your chest
Your heart drumming in my ear.
Victoria ramsey 2020