I Cut My Hands Off

Open hands and open paws
(I send them off)
And hooves, and open claws
(I send them off)
And all arms and my goosey down
(I send them off)
And branches reaching broad
(I send them off)
To end my reaching out
(I send them off)
To end wanting what walks through town
(I send them off)
So I’ll not hear that enticing sound of approaching voices
I turn me off. I cut my hands off. I close eyes off
I turn me off. I cut my hands off
So. No more hugging in the kitchen
No more pats on the back in the hall
No more chest on breasty chest in shower stall
No more lip on nape of neck behind the curtain
No more rosy gardens
No more craving curving hips on my belly
I sent them off
I hope to not want, and for to hope to not haunt
I want no-one never
I want nothing nowhere
I send them off