You look at my hands and see cute, dainty things Soft palms that shape sweet rolls Nimble fingers that pluck cello strings A tender touch that runs fingers through your hair and won’t let you go I look at my hands and wonder if they’re ugly or bad My fingers too long My nail beds shaped wrong My palms too big My pinkies crooked My fingertips coarse I hate my hands because I was convinced they are unsightly “Big, ugly, awful things” I don’t understand why I can’t let go of her cruel words They were so long ago after all Nevertheless, they stick like stubborn dough under my fingernails “I hope my child will forgive me for the hate I’ve given her hands” -Clara Principe