hands

by Tyler Hurula

Her hands are dry – 

as if the crisp air 

had placed too many kisses 

into the soft bed of her palm.

I cradle her hand 

in mine and trace poetry 

shaped by the fate 

lined into her wanting 

palm. I imagine gods 

chiseling these pathways, 

carving each score, crafting 

with the same precision 

as Michelangelo 

when he painted

the Sistine chapel. 

I stroke the swirl 

at each fingertip, 

notice each divot 

and dip. I dance, dainty 

and delicate over 

the soft hill of a scar,

knowing no one can 

replicate her well

worn fingerprints. I want 

to swallow her whole

history, tangle up

in her bedsheets 

and traverse

the entire expanse 

of her hands.

Tyler Hurula (she/her) is a poet based in Denver, Colorado. She is queer and polyamorous, and is a cat mom to two fur babies and a plethora of plants. Her poems have been published previously in Anti-Heroin Chic and Aurum Journal. Her poems feature love, polyamory, family, growing up, and being queer. Her top three values are connection, authenticity, and vulnerability; she tries to encompass these values in her writing as well as everyday life.