Hands often tell a s.t.o.r.y.
That faces will not betray
For when a mask slips on
The hands will give you away.
The stiff fingers when you place
Your hand in >>mine.<<
The tremor while your voice stays calm
And you look right into my eyes.
There’s a dozen scars that tell the tales
Of adventures that have passed.
You may not tell the stories,
But your hands will tell your past.