Fingers (part 1)

Love hurts.

All I wanted was your hand.
Calloused, curled, and slightly off
Interlaced with my own.
I wanted us weaved together
Intricately
Indefinitely
Like stitches in the quilt above us
Your coffee skin against my olive knuckles
All I wanted was your hand.
But those hands had other plans
Quickly texting and typing away
Clicking and clacking secret words
Telling her all the things I thought were my own
Sweet nothings
False promises
My Latina sass too strong for you
Like bitter black coffee
Stinging all the way down
Crass and honest
Much too rich and thick for your palms
Yet you always said you liked a little spice right?
Maybe I held on too tight
Cause at night I fight to find those precious fingers
Empty bedsheets where I lay
In silence
Cause we both know what I know
Yet even so
You won’t go
So here I stay
Feeling stupid and small
Cause you’re so damn tall and those manipulative words put me back in your grasp choking out the last of myself...