These Hands Poem by Eli MorenoDrew
These Hands
These hands,
calloused and dry
like my sense of humor
are scarred and tremble
because they know
they have themselves
and nothing else.
I've dragged them
across backs bare
and grabbed blankets borrowed,
but they shake with doubt
when I think of pretty girls.
Monday, October 26, 2009
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4/22/2024 4:21:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
