Imperfections meet

When the callouses on my hands connect with the callouses on your feet
there’s a special kind of love where our imperfections meet.

Knuckles and toes and fingers, ligaments, bones and skin:
the language of the body that love moves within.

The language of these hands, that slowly, kindly touch each and every part
and through caressing bumps and bruises, I gently touch your heart.

And just as my eyes delight in your face, so my hands delight in your feet,
that precious and ordinary place where our imperfections meet.

May the pleasure of rubbing your tootsies always bring me gratitude
for you and your gentle patience of me and my rollercoaster moods.

And when the callouses on these hands connect with the callouses on your feet
we’ll feel that special kind of love that comes, when imperfections meet.

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