Brigit's Flame, October, week #2
Title: Her Hands
Author: keppiehed
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Word Count: 445
Prompt: “Intimacy”
A/N: Written for week #2 at brigits_flame.
Her hands held her son. She'd been the first one to welcome him into the world. She'd rocked him and fed him and bathed him and changed him and cared for him in all the countless ways that mothers do. It's been a long time now since he was a baby, but her hands will never forget his gentle weight, how he rested in her arms for all those years. She still remembers the curve of his skull beneath her palm as she stroked his feverish forehead in the night. Her hands have held her shaking daughter, that willful girl, as she cried over silly things and then, later, more serious hurts. Her fingers have bandaged the cuts, cleaned the wounds and shepherded them safely into the wider world. Her hands have learned to let them go when they needed it, even though she wanted to hold them ever closer.
She is mother.
Her hands held her father when he lay dying. She sat by his side through the long days and the longer nights, watching the strongest man she knew slip away. They sat in silence that spoke volumes while she watched the ending of the world. They were bound by a forced intimacy in those dark days she'd always dreaded but never with all her bright imagination could envision. Time ran backwards and she saw her own hands feed him, her own hands bathe him and it was her words that soothed him in those hours of his voiceless need. And just as he'd been there at the beginning for her, she was there at his end; it was her hands that closed his eyes and sprinkled his ash to the wind. Her hands learned to let him go, too.
She is daughter.
Her hands held the man who loves her. She found him when she thought she had no one, when she didn't trust herself. He showed her who she was and how to love and accept love. He twined his fingers through hers and pulled her from the abyss and showed her that she is worth saving. He sees her scars and kisses them. He sees the beauty in her even when she can't. She will always be amazed-amazed and more than a little grateful-that she is so lucky. He taught her all the different ways to touch, and she finally learns to enjoy pleasure. Her hands are used to letting go, but he keeps her fingers wrapped in his so that this time she can hold on to who she loves.
She is wife, lover, sister, daughter, mother and more. She is everything, and her hands and heart are full.
Author: keppiehed
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Word Count: 445
Prompt: “Intimacy”
A/N: Written for week #2 at brigits_flame.
Her hands held her son. She'd been the first one to welcome him into the world. She'd rocked him and fed him and bathed him and changed him and cared for him in all the countless ways that mothers do. It's been a long time now since he was a baby, but her hands will never forget his gentle weight, how he rested in her arms for all those years. She still remembers the curve of his skull beneath her palm as she stroked his feverish forehead in the night. Her hands have held her shaking daughter, that willful girl, as she cried over silly things and then, later, more serious hurts. Her fingers have bandaged the cuts, cleaned the wounds and shepherded them safely into the wider world. Her hands have learned to let them go when they needed it, even though she wanted to hold them ever closer.
She is mother.
Her hands held her father when he lay dying. She sat by his side through the long days and the longer nights, watching the strongest man she knew slip away. They sat in silence that spoke volumes while she watched the ending of the world. They were bound by a forced intimacy in those dark days she'd always dreaded but never with all her bright imagination could envision. Time ran backwards and she saw her own hands feed him, her own hands bathe him and it was her words that soothed him in those hours of his voiceless need. And just as he'd been there at the beginning for her, she was there at his end; it was her hands that closed his eyes and sprinkled his ash to the wind. Her hands learned to let him go, too.
She is daughter.
Her hands held the man who loves her. She found him when she thought she had no one, when she didn't trust herself. He showed her who she was and how to love and accept love. He twined his fingers through hers and pulled her from the abyss and showed her that she is worth saving. He sees her scars and kisses them. He sees the beauty in her even when she can't. She will always be amazed-amazed and more than a little grateful-that she is so lucky. He taught her all the different ways to touch, and she finally learns to enjoy pleasure. Her hands are used to letting go, but he keeps her fingers wrapped in his so that this time she can hold on to who she loves.
She is wife, lover, sister, daughter, mother and more. She is everything, and her hands and heart are full.