Her hands are long, bright, beautiful, naked.
Her elegant fingers belie the strength required
to crack the walnuts sprawled before her.

Like candles upon the altar of Mount Saint Michel
which nourish vast chambers with soft whispering light,
her fragile finger-flames reveal the tender jewels
encased in each protective shell.

"What if those nuts were not so hard to crack?"
"I would eat them all the same."