Stiff Hands

I reached to touch you
And found my hands clumsy
As if a mannequin’s
Or artist’s model
All carven oak and metal joints

Hands remember
Grasping where one should not
Remember textures that
Make one shudder and squirm
Because they violate
So nerves grow stiff and senseless
And tendons petrify
And fingers pose slowly
And wrists and joints creak coldly

Sand my hands
With finest grit
Finish them in shellac and lacquer
Till all is sealed and sleek
Lest my splinters
Pierce and pull your tender skin