Last Night I Offered a Hand of Mine To Myself

Last night I offered a hand of mine to myself knowing how unnoticed it had gone for quite a long time now. I looked at it the way I never did before.

I See Myself In Me, Last Night I Offered A Hand

Last Night I Offered a Hand of Mine To Myself

A handful full of countless defeats regardless of wars, a hand that never knew how hard it is to be a part of me, an indicator that carved poems out of demolitions, a hand with rested goodbyes.

I deciphered every bit of my hand encoding every sequence of catastrophe it has witnessed with me. My hands have delivered purposes on days when we ran out of reasons to not cry.

So I pulled my hands close to my face, felt every little blemish, caressed my cheeks with tender love and stretched my lips even if they didn’t mean to smile.

I felt all the love I contained all at once, in just one memory. I flinch every time thinking that my hand could realise every beat of my heart which I seemed to abandon just at the cost of not loving again. But I knew what time does and it does what love cannot.

And yes under this moonlit night, I held my hands closer, together, tighter and I promised never to let go.
Till the end? Yes till the end.

This is a beautiful piece of Poetry written by Fahima Nahid.

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