I have often seen
your fingers -
knocking the ash
from cigarettes
brushing away the blackened past,
its fears and regrets...
stirring sugar
in endless cups of coffee
unwarrantedly sweetening
life’s relentless monotony...
idly turning over
the pages of idle books
airing, involuntarily
the mind’s hidden nooks...
or holding a glass of water
at the right moment
sustaining the wish for life
with liquefied content...
Tender your fingers
loving, their touch
which softly lingers
and makes it easy, as such
to know them as bringers
of joys overmuch...
and clasping my hands
in coldly warm embrace
wiping off the last trace
of fear and disgrace.
