My Grandmother's Hands

I thought my hands looked like my moms

And I thought the bugs were all gone

But my hands are very much

My own, or at least they trace down from generations

I never saw, whose hands I never held

And the ants are crawling back 

And the gnats circle the house plants


I laid flat on my back and called an ancestor

To visit. One from long enough ago that we would never

Have met and I waited for a presence

My chest felt heavy lungs compressed

And I pictured the archetypal mischievous

Boy ghost pressing down on me with his 

Bully face in mine using power that was once new

But is now rehearsed and I had to conjure up 

That recess patience - this is a coping strategy

For the pressures of being a boy asked to

Practice being grown

Dominance is confusing and pain is most places


Once I saw him before his early death

As the child we each sometimes are

He lightened the pressure and stepped back

And I sent up the wish for a crone

To guide me there must be at least one 

That knew about being gay and knew about magic

And belonging to everything else

She hasn’t visited yet but I imagine she’ll take her time.

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