tho I doubt we will
have much to surrender for!
as our palms, upturned, were the breach,
a welcome to tender abuses uncrossing the deepest folds.
the likened menace of your hold, that sliver of
a forked path below your knuckles, taut,
splayed in camaraderie and
steady to such instances.
so nullified was i, by the opacity of that faith.