I wanted their warmth
on the top of my head
like sunshine pushing
through the clouds

your forever broken hands
fractured by the rules
and the ruler
of the rule of the come-to-colonize

your forever broken hands
that grew like trees
always facing toward the ground
always prepared
to fall

forever broken hands
with fingers that could only clasp
around fishing poles
and garage sale ten speed bikes
and tits
and bottles of Black Label Beer
and bibles
and keys for spam
but never me
never grasp the concept
of what a daughter was

your forever broken hands
that pointed a crooked path
to my forever broken heart

I followed those hands
to the shattered places
you left behind
and pried them open wide
lost myself inside
along the forever broken path

and found my medicine
weeping out