It's dark in this room. My hair still needs to be braided. Dinner is starting to wear off. All I wants are hands.
I want hands to braid this hair. I want hands to make a nighttime snack. I need hands to touch. All day, almost everyday I am touching others. Giving away energy. Taking energy. And most nights when I get back to my cozy apartment I just want hands there waiting. Excited to hug me. Excited to help me out of work clothes. Ready to touch the day away. Willing to soothe sore muscles from gym workouts. I sure could use some hands right now.
Hands that grab and play. Hands that know the right amount of pressure when giving ME a massage. I'm always holding others. Caressing others. I love to touch but more than that, I love to be touched. I need it like oxygen. It'd be easy to call, send a text, an email and have hands come over. And sometimes I am tempted to ask for any ol' hands to be my hands for the evening. Why can't I? I just want hands. Hands that do it all while I lay still, breathing...like the corpse position in yoga. Not moving. Not thinking. Just receiving touches. Damn me for wanting deeper connections.
I need some hands. My hands can only do so much. The feeling of being able to lay vulnerable and still while being touched is ...freeing. It doesn't have to be sexual, sometimes I'd prefer it not be. All I want are strong, secure hands...no strings, no "okay, my turn", no talking even.
Nights like this are long. Without hands, the second slowly inch by. Damn, I need some hands.
