Your Hands

It’s through my wanderings

that I find myself here

In a room of low light and heated beds

closed off from the rest of the world

Each wall a different shade of green

for a different face of envy

Soft sounds and stripped down to a shy bundle of knots

Your supple hands run down my back

squeezing and molding

Smoothing out my tangled muscles

until I’m standing up on a cloud

Renewed to undertake my wanderings again

~*~

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