Cold Hands

Cold Hands

She had cold hands
always
watching a movie,
walking to the café,
sitting on a bench or laying in bed,
“My hands are cold.”
She would smile then swing her hand
towards mine, and
sometimes (if possible) both hands.

It was almost like there was a plan.

Sometimes her hands were frigid,
other times they had a slight chill,
a few times she had on gloves
(huge ass mittens that made it hard to grasp
but  don’t worry,
I managed alright),
and the other times (more often than not)
her hands warmed mine.

I was obliged to share my wealth.

and she did have
Beautiful hands
I can’t say I looked at them much,
(She has too much to stare at
as it is)
but when I did
I remember thinking
“wow, They really something”

One particular night her hand was grasping
my left hand

(yes her hand was warming mine)

she was off in to some flowery field
(or maybe in that recurring dream
about our road trip to some secluded island)
as mix of moon light and street light
gave the faint outline of fingers
wrapped around mine.

I’m not much of an artist, but I craved a pen
and paper to capture this moment
in a sketch, or at least (the very least) a poem,
but I couldn’t move because her head
had put my right arm to sleep.

I flexed my hand, and blood revisited
the tips of my fingers and ran back to my heart;
I decided to pass on that pen and join her
into that far off kingdom of sleep
and see the wave of hello
flaunting off that beautiful hand.

During the night, as sleepers often do
we had rolled around and her hands had shifted
to under her head, my hands traveled
around to the midpoint of her navel.

In the morning
before her eyes ever opened
the first words she said were
“My hand is Cold…”
and not being full awake
my hand grabbed hers.

There were a few times
(being a frequenter at the
Park Benches and cafes)
where I’d be sitting off in the corner
listening to people and I’d hear
a girl say,

“My hands are cold.”

I’d look up then to see a smiling man put
down his drink, shut a book, or pull his hand out of his
pockets just to share his wealth.

I’m not a man of conspiracy theories,
but I did eventually realize something.

So one Sunday afternoon (reluctantly)

watching Pride and Prejudice

I leaned over to her and I said
“My hands are cold.”
In response she laughed
grabbed both of my hands
and in a slight mix between chuckle and a whisper
she said
“I think you got it.”
right before she leaned in
and gave me

a kiss.