My hands don't feel the same.
Now they are soft, like spun silk
No more creases, burns,
Muddy scratches have all but disappeared.
Just like you did.
Its been two years since
You have stood in the doorway, laughing
Like I did at injuries.
Now I madden under them, changed.
Like the leaves change on the trees
I am waiting for spring, stuck in forever
Winter
The wind howls over the hills,
swelling in its crags
All colour faded.
We used to shout at the cold wind
Daring it to rise up, smite us
Ignite our Smarting cheeks
Tears in each eye, we would
Roll in the wet, swaying green
I felt every sting and biting
Pain you suffered by my own blood
I cried for every silent tear you shed
Curled in my crib until the night died
How could I have ever abandoned my own
Just for a fancy, a folly of a life
Glimpsed at through gold woven drapes
At times I dream you are there, yelp when …..
Your not
I am sorry my Heathcliff, my hands
They have changed
I shall dirty them, until the milk white
Skin fades and you are replaced.
I wish I was a girl again, then I would
Have my old hands back……………