Note: If you’re seeing this message, then that means you’re seeing an unfinished version of this poem (and I am, for one reason or another, unable to finalize this post; it’s only up now because it’s scheduled). Hope you enjoy this nevertheless!
Sometimes, I’m afraid
that someday my hands
would no longer suffice, that
they would snag
half-
way
through your hair like branches
with wild vines and we
would be stuck in this violence
as though this
was what nature intended