NaPoWrimo Day 2: Hands

Hands.

I looked at you today. The subtle veins.

I let you be free from always holding onto something for a moment. No gripping of the steering wheel. No upward motion on Instagram. For a moment I let you rest.

Phone off and tucked away in my neon backpack during my accupuncture session.
Felt the needle 🪡 prick softly between my thumb and forefinger.

The point connected directly to my head.
Chinese Medicine is
Fascinating. I instantly felt a wave of creative energy shoot waves from brain to fingertips igniting creation.

I instantly wanted to write to you.
To tell you about the Constellations and points all over our body mapping out our way home.
Remind me again that I am a writer.

in debt to you.

I Focused on my fingers and nailbeds.
reminded me of being a child with no distractions but the cheeks of my grandfather,pulling on his brow like Molding clay.
my hands always a great creator since birth. Imagining and reimagining realities or at least an attempt to.

grinding fresh coconut for my Mom during yemayas day
My hands an offering

candles and I extend my heart

in my hands outward

a cup of coffee for my love

the spin of my wrists
gratitude for your collaboration with my mind.

when the thought hits me,you propel my palms to form a soft fist and grip a pen to write.

you conspire and inspire to send a message of love

Or longing

I wish you had a filter sometimes but sometimes

we don’t think and push send
you and my mind could do better at this.
but we learn.
we too learn to

let go.

let in.

bring closer

or withdraw our affection when we feel less safe

Ungrip the things that cause us harm
the bottle at 2am

the cigarettes I once smoked at age 20

you knew it wasn’t my thing

just tried to be cool

Flicker fire and flick away on the curb.

for the thumbs up to my best friend awakwardly performing on stage

the peace signs I held up instead of fists

the warmth of my lovers hips we gripped before slumber

the sound we created with the drums slapping against our palms

the clapping my niece could hear from 4 rows away saying I’m proud of you without speaking

pointing to the moon

look at the moon

how we celebrate

hands up to the sky

hands up don’t shoot

hands holding steady along the gorgeous treacherous road down South Yuba River.
mind and hands aligned on narrow roadways leading to bliss.

the way in which we heal

when ache permeates the limbs of the one we hold dear.
my grandfather, the healer and the genes he left me in my fingers

ability to know when someone needs a hug

intuitive motion towards

A tissue when someone starts to weep

the way in which a child trusts you to guide them down a slippery street

how you give money to someone who needs it

how you prepare meals with your soul

how you are more than just hands you are the heart on the outside of the body extended outward

how ones who can’t speak

find heiroglyphics in motion

how you speak louder at a protest with a middle finger up than a yell sometimes

how you hide in denim

pockets at awkward settings when I don’t have much to say

or grip the ice cold beverage at a bbq with people I haven’t talked to in years

how you dismantle spiderwebs outside my door

and water the plants I give life too everyday.

thank you 🙏🏽