Angelina Weld Grimké (1880–1958), “Your Hands” is a sweet ode to an otherwise mundane part of the human body. By examining each aspect of her lover’s hands, from his body hair to his nails, Grimké paints a portrait of a working-class man who provides gentle strength and comfort. This love poem totally gets that feeling of always wanting to be close to your lover.
Here is the poem “Your Hands”:
I love your hands:
They are big hands, firm hands, gentle hands;
Hair grows on the back near the wrist . . . .
I have seen the nails broken and stained
From hard work.
And yet, when you touch me,
I grow small . . . . . . . and quiet . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . And happy . . . . . . . .
If I might only grow small enough
To curl up into the hollow of your palm,
Your left palm,
Curl up, lie close and cling,
So that I might know myself always there,
. . . . . . . Even if you forgot.