hands

[crimson_red]

hands account for one fifth your experience of existence
but honestly, if you're tactile
it's more like one half.
hands, our world exists in their perception. the feel of each doorknob
a lovers skin at night
both smooth and oily.
hands parallel the planet. muscles, tectonic plates folding and converging.
our fingers are their continents
our prints their mountain ranges.

beautiful when in thought, or colouring
or massaging my foot.
but i have lost a country to battle
(or was it rising seas?).
my provinces lay underwater, suffocated, so i
possess less land to offer.
in return i try to love you more
(a form of reimbursement)
in exchange for the limits of my bounty.

we're taking time again.
we're not allowing ourselves to move.
if sides are going to be drawn
and a match is to be held.

i want first choice and i choose you.

nathan.