Feet Without Shoes

There is something about hands at a keyboard

whether connected to a computer or a typewriter

sometimes even a phone

hands with wrinkles big or small

veins protruding as fingers type

a womans hands clothed in mismatched rings

chipped nail polish

dark blue with a slight shimmer

against the black and white keys

letters

text

messages to someone 

a story to tell the world or hide from it

and from the heart of the writer

those hands could be doing a thousand other things

washing dishes

holding a lit cigarette between drags

touching someone

hiding inside tight pockets

but something about that keyboard makes them seem

...

unattached

sentient

on their own

and yet they draw their power from tense palms and

tattooed forearms

from hunched shoulders and furrowed brows

they are not ever

ever

alone

There is something about hearts locked together

about feet without shoes

There is something 

something so very different

about you.

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