preordained conclusions

allow me some sky
to fly over myself
all the talking eyes
usurp paths around my fantastical places
I can’t hear myself think
here on the ground
the voices are too many
broken harmonies and
attachments to preordained conclusions
cannot be whipped away
by my threadbare occupation
I was meant to fix things
I’m a fixer
not lately though
my things seem to be pulling apart
flying overhead
my body and yours
will free my blocked salvos
kind salvos
because
I’m supposed to be deliriously dependable
even when my arms are tired
from all the holding
self-indulgences, you bet
because
I’m not all that decent
Karole

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that skin of hers

to get beneath that skin of hers
and force it perfect
I need her to understand
she is beautiful
I need her to see her entirety
to stop doing
what young girls do
not love themselves completely
permit shiny surfaces
and slick ink
to render their forms inferior

these cultures of ours
composed of humanity
but populated by shallow eyes
and deep pockets
should not so easily crawl
into young ears like robotic insects
and sting frail esteem
these young girls are all breathtaking
if we give them some space

they could stop hiding below hard water
and come up for air

if they gaze beyond
how blue the sky can be

Caroline Hands Crossed

Caroline Hands Crossed