My hands are not yours
Its creases bear a future
Not a past that was brief
Of friendship not of love
My arms hug the mind
Not a body nor its skin
My body caresses
The winds from afar
That bring in its midst
Words from these poems
That sing in the dark
And leave not for long
Just enough to return
My hands are for me
And the one that I love
For they have long changed
And I moved along