Whose hands are these
that flow so gracefully
around my neck
palming the shoulders
and probing the valleys of muscles in between.
Eh, what is the nature of these hands
that temper the tensions
others left behind?
Is this the way of love
that moves along the body’s battleground
to heal the wounds
and give flight to pain?
Now that you are through
how shall I remember you
by your given name
or a name I shall give you?
Angel Hands.
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