Your hands move with fluidity,
they are soft and smooth.
They tell me that you are caring and artistic.
Yet you've been through so much struggle and pain.
Those hands have sat out in the rain for hours,
and felt the pain deep inside your heart.
Your fingerprints settle in everything you touch.
As your hands create, your soul and heart weep,
with every beautiful and tortured stroke.
Your elongated fingers consume mine,
intertwining with my smaller and slender hands.
The contrasts between us spark my interest,
the smooth darkness of your skin meshing
with the pale warm tones of mine.
Harmonizing.
But it's more than just the differences in skin tones
that interest me. My eyes can't seem to leave the dark & light
weaving together, forming a pattern.
But when I really look, we contrast one another,
and compliment one another.
I'm not quite sure what all of this means
or where it's going but this is different.