Brittle hands
Dense and scaled
Older than their days
With a gentle touch and a
Knack for making people crumble.

Hungry eyes
Blue and tired
Dried at the edges
With soft intentions and
A need to keep all they discern.

Vapid lips
Diluted and fixed
Smothering all intent
With a hesitant filter and
An intensity only few fully know.

Dark air
Withdrawn and blunt
Frigid moods infecting
With love below the thaw and
A candour to stem tangible trust.

People glean
What they need
And just take in the skin
*With so much left underneath
To touch, to see, to taste, and to feel wholly.