May 5, 2015

I have never understood the whereabouts of your fingers. One day they’re going through the surface of my skin, the next day they’re cupping someone else’s breasts.
I have forgiven your fingers, but I will never forget the day the spaces between them have been filled with someone else’s.
I always thought those spaces were neither empty nor blank, why I’ve never tried to fill them in. My fingers were always there to fill your spaces. You knew that; but the size of my wrinkled, tattooed, candle figured fingers will never be enough to fill your empty spaces.
Maybe that’s why I will never understand the whereabouts of your fingers, because I have found fingers to fill the spaces between mine. I have decided they’re enough.


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