Did You Know That Hands Can Talk?

Did you know that hands can talk?
Yes, in the ASL community,
yes in a slap, a clap, or a snap.
But did you know that jewelry and freckles and knuckles talk?
They won’t demand your attention, so you must lean in close to hear them.

Just like my unique vocabulary,
my hands are uniquely mine.
Just like my not so unique vocabulary,
my hands are not so uniquely mine.

Did you know that hands can talk?
Accents trumpet our vocabulary like stories reside in our skin.
Like you, I was born with no words,
but I was born with two hands.

They have been burned, frozen, bitten, smushed, enlaced, kissed, scratched, hidden, grasped, smacked, squeezed, wiggled, and cut.
They are effortlessly fluent when narrating their adventures.

Did you know that hands can talk?
From the fantasy stories told during palm readings,
to scars who refuse to remain quiet.
I am not left-handed, but it's always a surprise when someone reveals they are. The unknown magic of the left-sided world.
Those hands that awkwardly perform on a dextral stage.
And for their next trick, they will cut a woman in half with scissors that weren’t made for them.

When I paint my long nails red, my brother reminds me that those are “mom hands”. Only she can paint her nails red.
Did her hands look like mine when she was my age?
Will time adorn my skin as well?
Before I came along, I wonder what her hands cared for.
What did they yearn for?
Did you know that hands can talk?
At the first sense of danger, our natural reaction is to reach out our hands towards the threat. My hands can cause you harm or lift you up.
Have you ever held the hand of someone you loved?

Since then, has a barrier been created or lifted?
My dad’s hands are calloused from playing the guitar.
My big sister’s nails are the same shape as mine.
Or have I become the shape of her?
It takes the entire surface area of my nephew’s hand to wrap around one of my fingers.

Did you know that hands can talk?
They whiten with fear,
wince out in reds, purples, and blues once damaged.
They shiver in the cold,
cry with sweat when nervous.
Your hands are just like mine.
Mine are just like everyone’s else’s.
10 fingers. 2 palms. 54 bones. 6 nerves.

Even the FBI recognizes 8 patterns in which all fingerprints fit into.
This practice has changed how we view the hands of criminals.
Every print is unrepeated, but only 8 patterns to choose from.
80 billion prints.
I have nine ulnar loop patterns and one plain whorl.
Where do I fit?
Will they know my crimes?

Did you know that my hands talk?
I count the hours of my mom’s fingers braiding my hair.
I live in the repairs made by my father.
I find comfort in the wrapped bandages.
I blush in the colors of my nail polish.
I decorate with my grandmother's encircling turquoise ring.
I pass the time in class cracking my knuckles.
I squirm at the pokes in my side from my grandfather.
I am the blue veins that remind me that there are hundreds of more like it.

I am my hands,
and my hands have a lot to say.