The majority believed that in the entire human anatomy, it was the eyes that revealed man’s spirit. It’s true to some extent, but my outlet to another’s life would be the hands.
Hands tell all sorts of stories: the man with calloused, sandpaper hands worked overtime, the girl with freshly polished nails was\s set on her first date, the man with protruding veins on his wrinkled hands had tightly held her wife's on her deathbed.
Hers were my favorite. Her hands were luke-warm tea and biscuits on Sunday mornings. Hers meant safety and unconditional love.
My mother’s hands were magic.
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Her Hands by KASH
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