The Hand of Glory
All the locks - this one
the one in the dream about the abortion clinic bombing
There is the room - it smolders
bricks as rockets as pieces of living tissue
raining down on screaming people
If only everyone had been sleeping
*
I fear that I am not done with you
that I have somehow cursed myself
to think about you too often
There is a stability in forgetting
the atoning of it - cleanliness - like sweeping
up after winter
I dream about you often
they are angry dreams - are biting
I wake up screaming or crying or both
Somehow the circle was drawn around me
the salt I laid and the sage I burned
did not rid me of you
*
You take the hand of the killer
It will be puffy and damp it will bleed
Into the bucket of piss and salt for a month
you should know the herbs you 'll need
It must dry in the sun
Rest as a crossroads
Be nailed tot he door of a church
You did keep the killer's fat as well
you did make the candle according to tradition
His hair will be the wick
*
The sound of a lock engaging
Finality - safety - it is the sound of sleep
the eyes lowering as gates at the tower
a sort of dam against the light of the moon
Here is the hand of glory
it has powers to render all motionless
static - a stasis from the terrors of night
about to and already come
*
In the dream about the abortion clinic bombing
Everyone stood at the barrel of a gun
Your face was there - it was terrifying
because your face was there
The killer held the gun like a candle
No one had the milk to put it out
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