Hands too delicate

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. 

The End

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