(no subject)

[classis_recto]

the hand

motionless, at rest
and struggling to stay asleep,
we're never really sure that we can hold them still

while harnessed like death

in some five-legged form:
a thin bodied creature
continuously trying to kick the lid from its casket

in some type of reincarnation

rebirth in action,
filled head to toe
with the innate urge
to move

or to soar
like ideas through time,
hopping nickel fences
dancing,
weightless,
all limbs jumping heavily about

crushing all in reach;
water out of stone,
strongest grip known to man,
the softest as well.

a jointed seesaw, quickly
shifting direction with a comforting touch;
pause the tap on the shoulder

a pillar;
support
strongholds for balance
we trust our lives to

some great rock; a weapon used
as we cast stones
and drag them
constantly weighing us down
and trailing behind us

and ultimately
i feel
it's a beckoning call;
heedless employees
hired by luck and default
whose words we live by
and die by
and bless by
and kill by
hurt,
comfort
and help ourselves by:

an unlimited source of agents
disguised as five-digit numbers
like subtle qualities of the hand.