Smelting.

My poor hands are callus
From dealing with all your malice
But by now I am numb
To the pain
That’s why I
Pick up these hot coals
With no problem
And place them
With care
Atop your frame.
See,
I see
The gold and the silver
Within you
Beneath all those
Impurities
So with patience
And kindness
With love and with fire
I endure you
So that you might
Gleam.