She notiiiced the tremors were getttting worse This terrrrified her She had always relied on her intelllligence Yet this requiiired her hands to work After all, for 25 years she has writttten for a liviiing But after her BMW kissssed a freight truck last November Before that delightful triiip to Italy and France To write … Continue reading Trembliiing
hands
Winter Chill
His hands slip in under my T His fingers are cold But his body is warm behind me. His breath on my neck is hot I’m not mad at this I’m not. ~Just L (March 1, 2018)
Confessions – Holding Love
I hope he, too, felt we made love whenever we held hands. ~Just L (May 11, 2016) Author's Note: I remember the spark the first time I pressed my hand into his. Standing tall, beside him in the back of the crowded room, hiding smiles, sharing silent dreams. See also: Wait For Him #abouthim
Palm Reader
My man does not know I study his hands more often than I survey his face. His, strong and freckled, which cover my own, fragile and tanned. I compare and contrast our fingers entwined. His hands are substantially larger, and I welcome the heat of his palm warming mine. Closing my eyes I discover the … Continue reading Palm Reader
Just L Poetry 