cooped up in my hand
sits a childlike unknown
saw it stutter to life
and watched it grow
fingers; their curved tips
shield it from your view
but it lives in my walk
and it weights what i do
i trim its imperfections
and polish its sides
yet, with ear to its whispers
i relish each lie
i cradle it gently
and savor every void
i've fed it with time
and it gifts me with noise
i sleep light and vigilant
as its cutting voice climbs
i dream of its soft words
and awake to my hands' crimes
emptied, perhaps too light
and crumpled, perhaps too small
sits a childlike unknown
that owns me, I can't let it fall.
