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I am a warrior

But I do not have a warrior's scarred hands

For as much as they have torn down my enemies and slain my demons

They've also been held--and healed--in love

Their palms have enclosed the trust in a child's tiny hand

Sore, bruised fingers have entwined with those of lovers

And rough, split knuckles have been kissed soft by my mother's lips

I can lay down my sword like I lay down my head

Because I know there is a soft place for both