and, we willjoin hand in handwhen the time isready
and I don't know /if we're keeping each other / afloat / or drowning hand in / hand
The hands can say a thousand words,if only they were able to understand them.
Wooden handsBruising random shapesOn my bare thighs.Wooden handsLeaving me covered In rainbow lies.And when wooden handsCross my mind,They come in the formOf sunshine.F.Z.N
She was the poet, her hands stained with inkHe was the soldier, hands stained with bloodThe gentle hands of the dreamer intertwined with the rough hands of the fighter.
He has such soft hands.Your hands are tough but they areAlways where mine belong.
Your hands,Brown and thick and strongBelonging to one laborious being.But when I think aboutThe delicate and cunning thingsThose hands could do to meI shudderWith delight.
I ask not For your handIn marriage I long For so much MoreWont you seeThese handsAs oursIn lifeForevermore