by Egon Schiele

Your Hands

I love your hands

Soft but strong

Warily loving

Holding me tight

Frantically making plans.

I love your hands

Bold but cautious

Cowering between

A forgotten dream

And a boyish reverie

I love your hands

Warm but inhibited

Quietly longing

To reach, to hold

To never let go.

I love your hands

Closing in mine

Gently crossing

A tender boundary

A you, a me,

A memory.



From Malaysia. A business owner. A painter and a closet poet. Hates roaches.

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