Photograph by Carly Ann Faye

Photograph by Carly Ann Faye

Debris of a manuscript, searched through for hands

Hand over my belly / slick hands silver at the water bowl's

I will keep my hand close / thrusts hands into the small sprouts

Many hands reach in, pull in / forearms

I lay my hands and face at his feet / pinning now in his hands

My pregnancy in their hands / in my pupils, my hands, my heels?

Take my hand / fold up my arms / who means you harm?

Naked hands, slits of planet, naked arms pinned through a wash

Placing hands / at the bedsheet

A woman’s hand / Bigot’s hand and the hand tattered

Her arms / her hands shake

Wig in hand and halo-headed

Multi-armed dharma / arms struggling to get out of arms

Stunning you with her hand / her hand immediately / his hand on my neck / my beard in my hands / baubles strung on his arms /

A chandelier behind that

Three trees uprooted by hand / her arms in the grass

Petal will take your hand / hands heavy as snake-coils

Hands and one bled / handsomeness

Your hand in the mirror / holding my hand

Hands loose from storage / hands loosen

Our freezing hands, all six

Finds her her hand / her hand with me / her ringed hand / large hand-fans / hands left

Laid hands on or murdered

Hand over the river / my other hand starched in my dress

Three hands on a stone / with one hand / in a Wastebasket with His Hands

Hands around the corpse’s idea

Hands overbright for her branches / hands shaking

Green arms violet or handsaw

Turn out my hands

Shaking hands and our hands will be regular hands /

on the other hand / claws tight as a handle in my hand?

Slowly, the handsaw coming into the forest

You can pretend the fur

of your arms is a worn

fur / The most hands-on of projects

Hand raised like an empire / with gloved hands

Caught hands press up to / hands on my brute