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Life came rushing up to me this morning
with all my problems in her hands.

I looked around for something for her
to put them in that wasn't my hands.

An egg carton, a mason jar, a shoe
box, a pillow case, anything but my hands,

but she refused everything. I gave up
trying to find something and put my hands

in my pockets but she pressed herself
against me, said, "Show me your hands."

As if they were no longer mine, as if they had
heard and were obeying her, my hands

came out of my pockets. Curled tight
into fists, like flowers at dawn my hands

opened to accept what life had to offer me.
She placed my problems into my hands

like potatoes you'll have to cut the green
spots out of and said, "Austin, your hands

are shaking. Every morning it's like this and
it's a shame. You have such beautiful hands."
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