Hands

Ok, so I was talking about how I had to get away from my painting for my brother in my last blog. Well, this is what happened!
Oh, yah and some more silly words put together by me too. ha ha...thank god I have this blog!

touch and feel the skin of my hands
I can't even resist the temptation to touch
finger tips running across a back of softness
a touch burning hot of the tips of my fingers
living for the rough and soft flow of blood to
grab and hold on to a part of unknown in
a circle of open air where emotions are free
until it stops

living through the senses and letting go
to a far away place where all is good and safe
getting back to reality and crying out load
still hands are in front of my face staring cold
staring back at me with and empty nest
until I reach back to the branch which I know
until it stops

still only my own hands in front of me are the same
wonder if they have changed from what I had felt
wondering if it can ever ever be the same again
a touch and a few thorns cutting through my skin
blood dripping once again to cover my paths
on a road more lonely than the overgrown tracks
until it stops

until it stops