Once smooth, fragile, unscathed
His hands, twin workers, met splinters
wringed necks in winters
and gripped hilts of silver blades,
the stuff of nightmares that spring.
They found books,
tore so delicately the thin pages
as his palms searched bibles for passages
bandages that heal and bind.
His left -
His right, blistering fire
until finally both knights are met together
in solemn embrace -
two halves, slices of one whole,
praying to whatever God created them.