The Language of Hands

Give me your hands
I will trace a map of every freckle
Every scar
And every inch of skin
That only wants to know you
And I sigh
In reply to your touch
The sound of hello
An introduction
Like none before
Your hands speaking the language of love
Whispering, “enchantee..”
Making up for your lips
Too busy
Too occupied
For the pretty words
Your hands
Perfectly say.

 

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