Her Handshake Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Her handshake

Poems are traces of our lives
Eat, sleep, talks and walks
Include every bit of motion
With our thoughts…

I write of everything, bodies, minds,
Of meetings in houses, in the bed, restaurants!
Among them her handshake!

She was in uniform, a police officer
We spoke serious
She tried to answer my questions
On limits for filming the police
Cars, Persons? '

I asked her in plain language:
'This is what…'
'This is how…'
'This is where…'

And gave her visit card
With my name and number and address.

Unaware of details she sought help
Reverted all of them and time came
For goodbye with handshake.

It was rough as if she does washing
Or she has problem with skin.

That threw me deep in thoughts:
'Hand is rough,
Job is tough,
Softest part was her heart…'

I skip her face, eyes
That were knives
Cut and cut…