Life Lines 
  
  
My hands are nervous struck.
Once upon a time these hands rested on your hips,
But we skipped the happily ever
Right down to the after
So now this time around,
righty tighty shakes your hand and lefty loosey
hangs close to my own pocket loosely
Hesitantly I find my own hand to hold,
Out of self control.
You're one good foot away;
At arms length as I reach out my hand...
JUST to help.
But shy away because my lifelines are much too rugged
These trails hold trials and tribulations along such rough terrain
These are dead end fingertips
There are no available options...
At least not in your eyes.
These hands lack guilt
and foster innocence.
Keen and gentle both at once...
These hands are the ultimate paradox.
These hands are the passionate labor of my ancestors.
These hands are tough love in its gentlest form.
These hands hold red roses with wild thorns.
Never afraid to bleed but aware that broken hearts bleed true blue
Emotions are anything but ceased.
These hands are used to please
in mid afternoon siestas to late evening
"hold tight till day break" goodnights.
These hands would work the 9 to 5
And still provide a cushion of comfort for a soul in need
These hands
The same hands you let hold you
The same hands you locked in with your own
Our souls intertwined through overlapped lifelines
And even though you let me go and our "close at hand"
slipped away
These hands are simple...
Just a simple symbol of what I could be...
With open arms, once again.


                                                 - Sheraz Khan.