hands. you've always loved hands. how they sit quietly in sad little laps. how they carefully pick at knee scabs, or run down along the small of your back. such gorgeous hands to cup your face, warm cold cheeks, begin the unbuttoning. you've kissed palms and fingertips, held tight to your chest as if you'd swallow them whole. even a lonely girl can admire how he holds his girl, his hands on her hips. they're full of love.