They looked like big, good, strong hands.

Built on the story
Of a stone, angelic quarry.
Carving through construction time
As all yours become mine.

Raised up, the tower goes
Deadened end and twinkle toes.
Raising a cherubic fist
Punched down in tantrum throes.

Diaper check the understudy
He swallowed his building buddy.
That’s yours, your DNA
Mine, mine, mine, all day.