I slowly mold and shape away-
Hands pushing, caressing every form
with the love and tenderness of creation.
God complex some may say,
to change and mold and transform
giving life to what was left in stagnation.
Trembling hands slowly discovering
the imprints of pain and misused
that shaped the form before me-
With love my tears recovering
the softness underneath the bruise,
molding, shaping- as it wills to be.