your hands

your hands are a mystery to me,
so small a cradle for my heart,
big enough to encompass my soul,
and so much a mirror of you,
small, beautiful, enchanting…

your hands are two queens,
so frail a weapon against my person,
so powerful they move me to submission,
and so much a mirror of you,
complete, stern, enduring…

your hands are contradictions,
one red to halt me on my tracks,
the other one yellow, undecided,
to either beckon me closer or let go,
you press them together and i see
orange — pure intelligence!
so much a mirror of you,
undecided to love, you intellectualize.

but in your hands i am a thornless rose,
powerless except where you move me…
in my heart.

One thought on “your hands

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