Our Hands

We craft; we eat; we play; we write. Much of what we do is done with our hands, though none is quite the same. My hands are big, but balanced, whose fingers dance across the keyboard and transitions images into words. Each scar is a chiseled mark to show the masterpiece within. Some have very feminine hands—long fingers, long nails, from pretty accessories to talons cutting into keys, like metal against metal. Some have hands guided by the left, awkwardly moving through the right-sided world. Some have baby hands, very tiny, very thin, long or boney: little skeleton bones poking like thorns from the beautiful rose. We’re all different, yet “Eugnique”, with the same silver bands showing our unity and knowledge—right over left, clasped in an eternal circle.