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Preze Reese
Poems
Mar 2019
My Hands
Soiled are my hands
From the touch
Of contaminated surfaces
Reaching out for
I grab hold of
Filth and dirt alike
But these are
My hands
So i cleanse them
Warm water and soap
Soaking them in
A cleaning solution
Removing impurities
Sins
And imperfections
My hands
Touching things not
Belonging to me
Representing my sense
Of touch
I reach
I grab
Holding on to...
Written by
Preze Reese
29/M/Seattle, Washington
(29/M/Seattle, Washington)
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