luni, 20 august 2012

Crafty wrists

My hands are the ones which mold this enclosed Universe as they please,as I please.Fingers pressing against dirty coins,deciding whether or not they should be kept for darker times or spent on lavish sunny days.Tender skin touching shoulder blades,while smiles and plans and future's ghost are all swimming between them.Unaware nails tracing the outline of inanimate objects,dreaming and wishing they could be as useful as their original purpose.Polished bones,aching muscles,an aging mechanism in the midst of conflicting energies.Always ready for the next move,never prepared for what is about to come-helpful or not?I think "indispensable" is the appropriate word in this case.Be it dull or extraordinary,this left-right duet is what enables me to give meaning to something otherwise...vapid.The blisters in my palms stand testimony to my existence and my bruised knuckles make good use of blood.See?I am the work of my hands.This is my legacy,this is my unwritten will.As for the rest,it's all dust and fairy tales... 

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