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his hands
December 20, 2018
his hands
they hold me when i walk through my darkest paths
tickle my soft skin when i need a good laugh
appulade even my most miniscule accomplishments
and caress my face in the morning as to welcome the days endeavors
they carry my world and everything in it
the fold in them deeper than the pit the ocean
yet still warmer than the sunday afternoon sun
they hold my past and our future
my damages and our healing
my smile and his laughter
my world and his existence
his hands
his hands
© Anonymous
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its about his hands