Challenge
write about hands
this is me begging for the romanticism of something SO underrated
effortless
Somehow you make it effortless.
Your hands dance down my sleeve
until it falls
perfectly into its home; within my grasp.
Your hands are perfect:
the gentle strength within your grip,
reminds me that you aren't going anywhere.
Your nails are stunning, with the cracked nail polish
you let me do it two weeks ago.
I thought you would try and remove it,
you hate the feeling of nail polish.
You said that you wouldn't because I did it for you.
Your palms are always a little clammy,
you've been ashamed of that ever since I met you.
It's as if you forget that you're human,
that you bleed and sweat,
just like everyone else.
But you're not like everyone else.
You somehow make something like loving you so effortless.
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