I hold the face against my eye Poem by Ingrid Storholmen

I hold the face against my eye
with warm fingers
where is the simple hand
The lonely hand
The nerves in the hand are full-grown
My hand hurts, only you can heal it




When you are in your hand
The darkness of the palm

My hand is tired today
between the eye your arm


hands gather water-drops
like gifts


the hands hold my name
the newborn name


The hands inside me, fingers fill me out