holding hands

Holding Hands

Have you ever looked at someone’s hands
And remembered every detail of them
Because you knew, before long, you’d have to?

Watched them resting on the table across from you
Taken in every freckle, every contour
And pasted them on the back of your mind.

A family obsession: holding our hands up to each other’s
Finding the similarities, echoed shapes, soft skin
Holding on to each other.

Remembering those fingers, holding
The steering wheel, the telephone, a knife and fork
Latterly, being held.

You hated the wires, crawling out
Don’t worry, I’ll always remember them
Resting on the table, across from me.

Strange when people tell me about you
What you achieved, gave, created.
I think, yes, but I looked at his hands.