Clench

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Where have these old hands come from?

For my wrists are still young

With smooth brown skin

Underneath layers of long sleeves

Tucked inside cuffs of fabric

Protected from abrasion

 

Firm wrists, supple, yes

Now, attached to deserts—hands  

Showing ripples from sands

Grey reflected waves

Oceanic tides of dry sky ways

pale moonscape dunes

Bare upon the surface,

 

High above my hands,

Arms of softness and will

Whose definition, a lost and found of

Strength, reflected by a thousand instances

Along timelines of attraction

Forever pulling my grip up,

Out of rejection into touch

Balanced by bony mass

Intertwined with vessels

 

My hands hold ground

Picking up dust, layers found

years, polished and tarnished

A rough silver, black geography

Of film, a celluloid life soot

Upturned, exposed indexes

Fingers of palms, bared to catch

Hold, caress, passion’s heat hatch

Now I am ashy, burnt and keloid

If I pick up fire, I will not feel pain

 

Perhaps, my hands have

Brushed against the wind too often

Saved too many of my falls

Answered endless phone calls

Worked on many projects

Eyes, ears, mouth, checked

Over touched, always touching

To a slippery comfort, clutching

 

I clench my fists

One more time

All wrinkles and softness fade

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22 Comments on “Clench

  1. This pulled me in so immediately and I was delighted by your words! I, too, have the “fire” hand and, in fact, your picture looks just like my hand!. Excellent, excellent job!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This, my Dear, is timeless! There are numerous protege’s of you and i number I as 1 (hyuk!) and therefore I ask thee when you shall forebear my self and then they all will know that it is so. Bye!

    Like

  3. An old fist may not show the wrinkles ~ but it cannot hide the weakness

    Like

  4. Pingback: Hand(le) With Care – Tell Me More…

  5. Wow…. Loved this…at the end had me staring at these old hands of mine and rethinking all of the places we have been…. Happy Holidays…

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I think my brain is weird because I have a whole novel planned out just from reading this work of art. Loved my walk. Thanks Elan.

    Like

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