My Hands,
soft,
tender with youth,
red with painful irritation…
Your Hands,
rugged,
wrinkled with age,
tan with blissful content…
My Hands,
riddled with hairs,
educated
used to pencil strokes
and testing
Your Hands,
scattered age spots,
strong
accustomed to heavy lifting
and cinderblocks
My Hands,
large and stubby,
though ever impatient
and swiftly moving
from years of youthful inexperience
Your Hands,
large and stubby,
but notably wise,
and very careful
from years of mature understanding
My Hands,
idle from incompetence,
Oblivious with ignorance,
though still loving and fragile
Your Hands,
active from life’s struggles,
conscious with selflessness,
still contain a willful urge
to lend their help…..