hands.

fingers touched.

yours were soft-spoken, gentle and calm.

mine was too spoken, fiery and warm.

i didn’t like your hands.

i didn’t think they would look good holding mine.

palms collided,

yours were deep, curved, and wise.

mine was damp, bent, and guessing.

i didn’t like your hands.

i thought they would get too wet holding mine.

hands clasped,

yours were a snug fit.

held mine like you knew it.

mine was damp.

held yours like i’ve never tried it.

yours were sure, it was secure.

held me like you meant it.

mine was tight, it felt right.

held you like how i wanted.

i didn’t like my hands.

i thought they were too small to hold yours.

too sweaty to be held,

too rough to be kissed,

too much of ‘me’ for you.

i didn’t like my hands

but you held them anyway.