Chaos
Chaos
Flowing letters tucked on the back of the wrist
where the blood flows
seeking its way back to the heart
the pulse of the arteries hidden
buried deep
A reminder of the world
A reminder of the things we can’t control
An acceptance of what is
Everything inside and out
Chaos
There is more to me
There is more to me than this
than waking up to do all the dishes
cleaning the house
paying the bills
and trading the work of my hands, arms, back, and legs
for just enough to just cover the bills
stopping the dreams
there is no money for dreams
no vacations
no travel
only work
and worrying about money
and bills
and healthcare
Anything that is more
got shoved under the reality of life
and the dishes, and the bills, and the work
It doesn’t matter
He takes my hand in his
Fingers intertwined
He gives a gentle squeeze
I love the feeling of the warmth
my palm pressed next to his
and I wish
he could have held my young hand
the one that was flawless
Soft – full of promise
Rather than hands aged by work
veins bubbled next to thin skin
knuckles slightly swollen
dry enough to see the patterns of wrinkles and textures of skin
You should have had my young hand
Soft and creamy and smooth
And then gently you lift my hand to your lips
A kiss on my life wearied hands
And I realize it doesn’t matter.