Rhodora Jacob and Beck Sebenius

Rhodora Jacob
Holding Hands

Inspiration piece


Indian Burning
By Beck Sebenius



Fingers of light in a dark wrist maze

After squeezed pink skin is set all ablaze,

From the twisting thumbs, and the Indian burning,

To the open sore sights, and the dark to light turning


And then it is seen – or the opposite, really

Just sitting there staring,

and staring,

and staring,


It opens itself – and there’s others, too

and the stars and the rest all turn anew


The colors! The light! The brilliant golds,

They tell stories of stories, of times of old,

Yet all without contact – not a single touch,

The isolation – the cold! – it’s all too much.


In the end it’s the ripping – the scratching! – I prefer,

because with it comes warmth and intimacy.

For, all that out there – the truths you see and hear,

they’re worth nothing at all when there’s nothing to fear.