Look at your hands.
What have they done?
Who have they hit?
What have they killed?
What is this open wound here
old, bloodless, deep, the skin curling at the edges?
Are you stuck behind the door
your hands cannot open?
Are you still scratching at your hands
even though it brings no relief?
When you try to caress your lover
does her body shrink away from you?
What must your hands do to make amends?
Only your wound can tell you
but you must learn to listen carefully.
Make yourself small enough to get in the hole
and look out on the world from there.
Until you are your wound, you will not heal.