Hands, Long Gone.Yes, I remember your hands. Big hands. Worn from the years, and dirty... just because, because that's the way they'd become.
Long fingers. Steady fingers. Swift fingers. Fingers that once traced my hips, traced my lips. Palms that once cupped my face. Such giant hands which did engulf my own little pudgy hands, safe...they had once promised safety.
Oh...those guitar playing hands. Where've they gone? They're not mine. Hands, long gone.