hands.*
each a set of
5 fingers
a personal spider web
links us to the world
the delicate curvature
effortlessly bends and twists
like a winding road
stretching on and on
hands outstretched
like an eagle in flight, soaring
helping/loving/achieving
but also;
hurting/hating/ failing
each line
drawn on our palms
so haphazardly
by its calculated artist
our perfect imperfection
such lovely flaws,
bind us to our
faithful predestination
our bodies-
a lost compass, searching
our minds-
a wanderlust dreamer, waiting
for love,
our perfect traveler

(b.d.s.)

Come, dance with me...
.....hold my back
lead my arms...my hand
push my fingers
they'll obey
release your power, and
fuel my senses,
......got no room for false pretenses...

I'll let my creative ink flow
inch by inch, i'll move your hands, to draw,
together,  a field of dreams, we shall initiate
while we travel, our efforts will collaborate...
let's dance, fill our sphere with gems of thoughts
**** my pen.....its fire, my fingers will stoke
i'll guide your brush strokes
in painting bright colors on our walks...

lead my hands
as i lead yours...
This giving and taking,
this push and pull stuff,
let's make great art out of it <3
......

Sally

Copyright February  2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

she loves my calluses
she holds my hands without malice
she likes my hands
but i don't understand why she likes working man hands
she holds them as much as she can
she says i work magic
they also do work that can be tragic
the hands of a working man that's just it
cuts and scars
make my hands what they are