Let It All Out

Hands

These hands of mine, 

Can't you see?

They're no longer soft and fine

Like they used to be.

My nails are bitten

And my cuticles are the same,

But when you look at them, I can't help but feel smitten,

And you tell me that I'm not to blame.

You tell me that all these wrinkles and veins are beautiful,

Roses with their branches and thorns,

A garden everything but mournful,

You tell me over and over.

You say, 

"These hands of yours will age until they are as wrinkled as a raisin, 

But that simple and thin ring on your finger

Will make them look as young as the day I first loved you."

N.P.R.

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Posted on 4/30/17.