The two hands...at Sistine...

Seeing two hands
Reaching yet seperated
By space
As if grecian urn like
him spiked...
And the dyke
Did it not break?
Open?
Again?

The scenes nine
How they Genesis like
Generated myths,
Stories sublime
On the white ceiling
Of the chapel...

And two hands...
The God
And
That of Adam-
They live seperated...
Grecian urn like
Eternal
Frozen
And yet
So so real
As if seeping blood...
Veins erupting with joys
Unheard,
Unfathomed...
Like love...

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