Their hands

Their hands when they touch

Flow from rolling of wrists

Each touch is a signal

Each touch is a kiss

 

Their fingers are folding

On whispers and secrets

Cupped hands are holding

All ahead that will be

 

Their fingers trace circles

On their palms telling futures

Tender are the touches

Of their hands as their tutors

 

Their hands rest together

One on top of the other

Their hands mark their measure

Their harmonious hands

 

Their hands spread out

Open and true

Telling each story

Each soul on view

 

Hands hold each heart

Supporting each core

Their hands do the learning

Of what more to adore

 

The extension of hands

The parallel lines

Pads of sensitive fingers

Their dreaming defines

 

There are fists and shaking

There are dips and rise

There are quivering fingers

Before flickering eyes

 

When hands arc with arms

To gracious embrace

The lovers say nothing

As hands touch each face

 

Delicate lines are drawn

Across soft skinned cheeks

Then with touches to lips

Mouths start to seek

 

Two seeing hands

guide the blind

Sensuous and caressing they massage

Four hands synchronise

to breathe in kind

Entwined

in waves of love

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