“I am rolled up sleeves and dirty hands

from a day spent working, I am

gentle fingers, tender across your cheek.

I am annoying optimism, the belief

that things can, and will, always get

better; I am dark days where my sun

cannot seem to rise.

I am worn shoes from wandering

and the hibernation in my own home,

the reluctance to leave. Coins,

we are coins, and I one too,

two sides sharing the same

metal.”