Theft

I don't have enough
to tally up
all the things that have been stolen--
not on my fingers,
not on my toes,
not in the hairs of my head.

And you can't give them back,
and I'll never see them again,
and I'm not allowed
to search for them,
not even in the dark places
or the quiet places.

You can't help it,
and you don't know any better,
and I, too, am a thief--
but I can't stop wanting to destroy
the hand that tore out
my spine through my lungs.