Hands

Your hands radiate summer’s heat and mine take it in as if they were a house yours wandered too far from

Your hands caress my face with no room left for another lover

Your hands were never taught that they would mold to a lover’s hip perfectly and they tremble with thoughts of what this body can do

My hands fidget to the rhythm of my heartbeat

They cannot sit still without the white noise taking them over

My hands are only quiet when sketching your bones to my memory

But oh god do they tremble with an earthquakes ferocity at fleeting thoughts of bodies I once knew by heart

Afraid yours may be added to the list

It’s not like I ever stay, just dissipate into something your hands no longer recognize as mine

No hand has beckoned me to stay, only to splinter

Your hands already whispered their plans to leave

Mine are trying not to forget so soon, they are waiting for the moment we untangle

Just say when

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