An Interpretation of My Hand

Iam a beast with five legs, maybe four To tempt beauty, I'll palm desire in rapture lore I'll rout reasonheadless, and torture emotion's spine A rending artifice, caught in theagitated combine Of clasping hands, but my feet don't mind For they walkin love with weary fores From mountain crags to ancient shores My heart of pleasure shivers, but secretly implores With erupting fissures, quivers my hand restores Fingers exploring far-off imagined Doors. My love exists on fabled continents And integumentary movements Commence to meet, held firmly lock-in-key Neither speaks, nor fatal insists so restlessly Inside, the voice of forever's sleepy gesture Outside, a statue's arabesque conjecture.