Finding Softness

The skin on her hands peeled in small flakes, hesitant to fall.
Amongst the flakes were small wounds, spots of dried blood.
In the few spots missing both flakes and wounds, the skin was pink.

I held this hand in mine.
I held this skin to mine.

I filled my palm with hand cream, circling
her knuckles and the flakes
disappeared.

She closed her eyes and smiled.

/michal

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