These hands / can ground down rock and gold / call a man sweet dusty, mold / knots of spit and hair like clay / until a baby’s head is perfectly round.

Grandpa knows / how to build southern porches / tall enough to see trouble coming; / the way the palm curves to the right / for the perfect bird call

Dog whistle voices /  take her away mid-sentence; / brazen cackles /  bar her from sleep.

my name is a free clinic / wedding on a project roof / every head two-toned every mouth / gold-toothed