Pillow Book

(Found on a rolled-up piece of paper inside one of Sam's gloves. They were a couple of hours late breaking into the museum that night.)





I know you hate your hands sometimes.
Ever since that girl called them paws
Back when you were still filling out.

It's true they're not small and dainty,
But only strangers notice that.
Me, I notice how quick they are -

How you can draw a gun and shoot
Faster'n most people can blink.
Saved my life that way yesterday.

And how capable they are, too -
Fingers flying over keyboards,
Picking locks and blocking punches.

They're strong and determined like you,
Pulling me out of rivers and
Up from cold floors when I can't stand.

Sometimes gentle, patching wounds,
Easing pain, offering comfort,
Even when I call you a girl.

Only time I think of their size
Is when they're on me, touching me,
Running, stroking over my skin -

Making me catch my breath and moan,
Coming alive beneath your touch.
You touch me everywhere, and I

Splinter apart, crying out loud.
You put me together again
With those same hands, holding me tight.

So don't be self-conscious 'bout them.
I like your hands, Sammy. They're home.
Even if you're huge like a freak.



Here

Here

(Written on the back of a photo and tucked in with Dean's gun-cleaning stuff. The photo was taken on Sam's first day at school and shows him clinging onto Dean's hand.)



Oil. Slick-smeared black on
Hands careful and quick. On guns
And under the hood.

Fingerprint smudge on
Glass or screen. Grease smears and spots
Fleck flannel cloth.

Paint flecks on fingers.
Drops and drips on walls each place
We stayed a spell. Homes.

Grave-grim heavy soil
Clings soft on sweat-smeared skin.
Dirt of a job done.

Ash. Black smuts staining
Skin while you hold onto me.
Salt sparks cleanse and free.

Cold-smooth cream on sun-
Hot skin. Or slicking over-
Inside me on you.

Heart-bright body blood
Wet on my hands and yours. Beats
Steady under skin.

Scrabbled crossroads dirt
Makes dark half-moons under
Blunt and broken nails.

Been getting your hands dirty
For me for years. Now -
Please - let me take my turn.