Holding Sunlight

May 4th, 2026 – Poem #4

It’s been a while 🙂

My hand creaks
like rusted machinery
or gritting stone
as I unfurl my fingers
and expose my palm 
to the sky
as a river of gold
melts from the sun.

I held sunlight—no
sunlight held me.
Illuminating:
every carve & etch,
the creases 
where my fingers fold
and the flesh furrows 
in between
crinkling like paper;
the lines that bow 
across fleshy plains
unsteady & quaking;
the contours of 
my fingertips,
glistening now,
timidly aglow with
beads of sweat 
called on
by the loving 
heat—I seal

my palms 
into fists 
to catch
It—the Light,
knowing 
without looking
that I can only 
hold darkness.
Silky & smooth.
Soothing & silent.

I open 
again–and 
the Light 
gushes back,
breathing
into my palms.

I leave them open.

© 2026 Alana Karam. All rights reserved.