When i look down at my hands, think of the people have held them. Held my hands for comfort, out of joy. Held my hands out of sorrow and grief. I think of the people who love my hands when i look down at them. Friends and family who have loved my hands, loved me for my heart and soul, love me through my hands. Hands give comfort, have the ability to heal, and create. I have been loved through my hands. Hands provide the comfort the soul needs, yet to feed my heart i need someone to love my lips. Of the people who have kissed my lips, only one has loved them. To love my lips is entirely different then to love my hands. To love my lips is a way to love me more. to have a kiss driven by love, is worth more then a million kisses driven only by lust. My lips long to feel love. My hands are loved everyday feeding my soul.