Trove

Hands
and their innumerable touches

no, we cannot print
download
nor store them in Ikea boxes

Hearts:
The ground cannot count
its beats and how

it accelerates at the sight
of a familiar smile

Teeth
make up the smile and the lips
are like curtains

that open to unveil
genuine Joy

Arms open and fold
what is hollow until
there is another

Hands
can’t carry it all
can’t hold on to a hoard
but oh, they can touch

Trove

And what is left
and what is right –
hands

Let us hope
there is a seed that shelters the trove
of our memories