Hands Too Delicate
Your coffee eyes open and we get out of bed
With sun streaming through frosted window panes
Soft silhouettes laying just beneath my pounding eyes
Yesterday’s memories boxing with last night’s dreams
Last wisps of conversations bouncing through my ears.
We get up to leave; what else to do
We have too much time on our hands, you and I
Hands are too delicate for hard work,
But too hard for delicate people.
Clutch your coffee for warmth against winter snow
Steam swirls around your smiling lips
As your laugh softly plays my ear’s drum.
Hands clasp as you shut the door,
The car in the key and the engine roars.
Down 94 two cars streak past
One for you and one for me
Punch the roof, BINGO
On account of the missing headlight.
With hands I hook right
With the steering wheel we turn
Slight skid no grip snow and ice on the asphalt road.
Street lights turned off
Our future as unclear as today’s chance of snow.
Up the steps and grab my ticket
Boots on wood we squeak
Drawing disapproving looks from disdaining peers.
In front a portrait of a man
Hands held in prayer
Hands too delicate for hard work
Hands too hard for delicate people
On my camera and I click three times
But you have already moved to the next.
Through endless corridors we walk
The stark white walls hammering my exhausted retina
Blurring with memories of your ethereal dance
Burning with the fire of spirits served in chilled glass.
Out into the cold we walk, snow drifts from the sky
Flakes stick to your hair, your lashes, your cupped hands
Hands too delicate for hard work,
Hands too hard for delicate people.