These hands, mine and yours.
These hands can give, they can take.
What do you want to do with those hands of yours?
You can feel; touching the golden flower in a gentle gaze.
Won’t you touch me that way too?
These hands can mean love, they can mean comfort.
When I’m alone and dreary, taking my hand in yours tells me I’m free to feel.
I’m also here for you, won’t you notice?
These hands point toward dreams;
Canada - friends and strangers,
New Orleans - deep southern drawl rolling off lips,
Italy - love.
They point towards strong passions; capturing the moment in a flash, writing the fantasized worlds.
These hands that can make; a sharp taste of rich food, a drawing made of a sweet-sour color blue.
These hands that made these, I made these for you, these hands are made for you.
The strong grip held from your hands, the soft drag of your fingers along mine.
Is this what hands are for?
These hands, yours and mine.
Author Notes: Please Comment and give Constructive Criticism!!