Former Haitian Dictator to Face Charges Their hands of kindness have been tightly bound, barbed wire scraping at the flesh of love. Run away, Mr. Duvalier, your hands are much too tender for such affection. Vatican Warned Bishops Not to Report Child Abuse Yes, we’ve known. It’s not invention, it is anguish recognizing itself; monstrous sins hiding under a cassock with amaranth trim. Giffords's husband says she recognizes him You know me. My hands hold your hands. My prayers speak your name. My love loves your love. You know me. Eric Fuller, Shooting Victim Arrested Due To Outburst at ABC Meeting You really don’t know me. My blood ran over your care. My fears shook your restraint. My wounds were your wounds. You really don’t know me. © 2011 by mark prime
(The Weaver's Song)