My Hands Poem by RIC BASTASA

my hands have ten rivers
there are furrows of sorrows in the destiny of my palms
no mountain peaks to view the world
holistically,

my hands have ten crystal clear ponds
my hands mirror my face
my hands surrender
my hands open

they are all yours too and you are so cruel
you are telling me like you detest me in the residence of your full moon

you do not need rivers, you had enough of my surrender, you are ashamed
of open hands, you touch me and then you make a plea

'please close your hands and with your ten rivers, please sail away from me! '

i know what a full moon is. I too had enough of its light and silence.
i have the nerves of the stars, and i know what sailing away means.

let me thank you for your dark skies, your clouds are too heavy for me.
i am raining tears, too salty for my ten rivers.