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Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.

Anne Sexton
Blood, Hands, Found
Anne Sexton (1999). “Love Poems”, p.2, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.