Dec 10, 2016

Hands



You ask me if you can look at and hold my hands.
But I'm still trying to learn your beat.
And once I start touching, I don't stop.
Who touches and let go?
If you hold my hands, I am also holding you.
If I touch you, I'm submering to a new layer of this excavation.
I'll find artifacts here and there.
And if I am willing, I will take my tools to brush away the surface and get into the layer.
Moving aside earth
to get to the truth.
Moving aside muscle with my hands,
to hear your rhythm inside of you.

I can't excavate if I'm not committed so I'll keep to my hugs for now.
I'm sensitive as it is to my touch,
forget about yours!
What fun is it, to just touch for a moment and then let go?
I rather touch know knowing I can knead my
my fingers between your truth and melt your doubts
as I relearn your name.
Excavations are costly and long term.
Many factors change the time tables.
I rather take the time to explore a territory like hiking with a small backpack rather then retreat before I take one step.

If you hold my hands, I'll be holding yours.
Who you are, I will feel. What you are not I will uncover.
Touching you means getting to know me on a new level.
When I'm interested we will know.
Keep your tools at bay and I will keep mine.
For now, the sun looks radiant behind us.
Let us walk.


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