Hands

She realized that she had

Lately been developing

An obsession with hands

They seemed to have taken on

Almost mythic importance

 

Hands could push away

In anger

In fear

In violence

The tides

 

Hands could pull

A leg

A rope in tug of war

A dog back from running into traffic

A lover into orbit

 

Hands could scoop out

The inside of a watermelon

The warm clothes from the dryer

The deepest secrets of a heart

 

Hands could hold

With great delicateness

A baby

An egg

Another hand

 

Hands could smooth

The wrinkled sheets

A furrowed brow

Worries back into manageable proportion

 

Hands could crush

An aluminum can

A Dear John letter

Someone else’s hope and dreams

 

Hands could direct

To the left

To the right

Up, down

To get the exact spot of the itch

 

Hands could strum a guitar

Tickle the ivories

Turn the pages on the music stand

Conduct the orchestra

In a haunting symphony

 

Hands could reach across

Entwine in hair

Caress a cheek

Unbutton a shirt

Unhook a bra

Unzip soft denim jeans

Unleash buried passion

 

Hands could bridge the distance

Between two souls

Touch the heart

Through a thick winter sweater

Feel its rhythm

Guide you home

6 thoughts on “Hands

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