The lines on my hands ... The lines on my hands
Get longer
on the canvas
of my Indian skin.

Then, like clockwork,
They speak
in a language
I cannot comprehend.
It is an earthy language
Exploring alien lands

The lines on my hands
Mock me in song
They cannot leave me alone;
My history fuels the blood
In these lines.

I embrace the patchwork
that is me
and cling on
to
raw
hope
cutting
into me bloody.  ¶ 8:11 PM