there is so much tingling in the fleshy cells that
create these five pointed hands. it's not what's in
them though, it's what they do, create, feel, & symbolize.

your balled fists, clenched at your sides, shaking.
his sweaty palms, facing down, resting on his legs.
her fingertips on your skin, creating heated lines.
our hands intertwined, hands cupped, fingers locked.
his shaky fingers, casting shadows, while he paints.
my short little fingers, clicking as i nervously bite my nails.

those two hands, on me, on you, on her, on him, on
them, on us. those two hands create and crumple up.
soft hands, dry hands, cold hand, warm hands, strong
hands, weak hand, dirty hands, clean hands.

i always thought that i didn't like to be alone, but
now i realize that i don't mind it at all. i don't
need other hands to be okay with life.