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