Two hands can
shape a heart,
in the gap between fingers.
Out of silence,
a signal
in trembling air.
Hands hold, hush,
heal and reveal,
in touch of fingers,
feelings and
gel gestures.
They cup tears,
clench truths,
cradle hurts,
crush promises,
relay messages ,
meld minds,
and wave goodbye
without words.
Fingers trace the
soft crescent of faces,
feeling to shape
the form beyond
what eyes see,
and hearts wish,
to a warm
shiny smooth
sculpture
in marble.
We surrender
to the hollow...
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