Every word has
a pulse. Every poem
has a heartbeat* ~

I like to believe that ugly hands
can create beautiful things
that they can paint oceans wide and deep
that they can scribble words that make the soul weep.
I like to think that ugly hands,
with darkened knuckles and twisted bones
can make someone want to hold them
and trace patterns, and leave tingling jolts.

Did that really happen?
Or was it just me.
Were you just batting your eyelashes
or did you really wink...at me?
Is there a reason for
you walking beside me
or is it just our paths coinciding?
Question upon question tower in my mind,
they form headaches,
as well as smiles.