I have taken a liken to my hands, to the way you left them. Mangled bruises but only on the surface. Beneath you left me with tactile changes of my character. I trace these lines to their source And find they run much deeper than this feigning of disingenuous compromises Bent over the wrong way…
Tag: Hands
Calloused Hands
I remember the softness of your lips Sweet kisses Simple touches You used to hold me like precious silver Taking your time to touch the creases of my heart Like an artist that only knows the touch of paper That each fold would mean something new and beautiful I remember the feeling of your hands…
