these fucking hands all over me like they fucking know me like they’ve been there millions of times before, these dirty fucking hands from work, from washing dishes, from breaking up the street, from piercing tongues, from counting money, these fucking hands that think they know it all poking and prodding me along, up my ass, up my spine, jammed into the back of my throat, fat cruddy fingers with split nails and cracked skin grabbing a hold of my hair like i want it, grabbing me by my teeth, like i’ve been fucking waiting for them, waiting to fuck them of all people, like i’ve been waiting to be fucked when i’ve been fucked over and over already by hands just like theirs, just like these, just like mine pushing my eyes in.