Your Beautiful Hands

A poem revolving about a woman who won't leave her husband, even though he is abusive

When I said “I do”…I meant forever;
I signed a contract that would join our souls together
I cried, as I said those vows…
For better, for worse…
We had waited for these moments
A public declaration of what we shared for each other…
Signalling hands off marauders…
We were off limits
You belonged to me…and I to you…
It was heaven on earth…those fresh months…
We couldn’t do without each other…; marriage was good
Hmnn…my love…my sweet love
Then your hands started displaying its hidden talents
Yes your hands, because it couldn’t be you
You loved me; yes that’s what you told me…
“forever, till death do us part”
Your hands are different from you…
They have a mind of their own
You would never hurt me
I would hide those paintings, your beatiful hands have created
My body as its canvass…
Your beautiful hands that show their other side
A beautiful side, when you comfort me in bed
No one would see those paintings…
They are between us…meant for us only
After all the pastor said something about
“keeping everything between us…and settling our problems between ourselves”
God knows that it is your weakness…
It is my job as your second half to understand you…
I know I annoy you; I would try to please you till death do us part
I know you are still worried about our baby…
You…no, not you; your hands
Your beautiful hands attempted to paint on me…
And then it mistakenly shifted to the foetus…
Yes, even painters’ make mistakes…they paint outside the canvass
Today, Chinwe came to visit…
Yes, chinwe…you both dislike each other;
Chinwe, my bestfriend; my chief bridesmaid…
She asks so many questions; prodding about the miscarriage
She just wanted a full explanation; “it just doesn’t seem right”…she kept saying
And then, the remote fell; I bent over to pick it
My long signature weave flicked to the side
And chinwe...saw a part of our private collection of art…
Your painting on my neck…
The night before…you had soothed it…just after you painted on it…
With your beautiful hands…
She wouldn’t hear any of this nonsense; “you have to leave” she said.
No…she can’t understand; me and hubby are one…
Never to be separated…
She thought I was mad; I thought she was ignorant
She didn’t know you like I knew you…
You! My beautiful one with those beautiful hands
The one I love, and the one who loves me…
The only thing is that your hands have a mind of their own…but thats fine
because its for better, for worse...and i am here to stay

---

---

Claim: Originally written by Nigerian Fiction Member 220 - Keke

Nigerian Fiction Title 91