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Sam Geall

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quiver

My hands were the first thing you noticed
holding shopping bags
veins bulging
Shaky hands, trembling hands, you said I was nervy.
Like my grandfather, who trembling at the airport
        having his bags searched, filled with German
        Jewish history started to quiver
had a firm hand laid on his shoulder by a security
        guard to calm him. My body quivers
when it touches yours but my hands become firm as
        if satisfied.
It was our hands that met that night, I reached
        to your frosty hand on the grass, our fingers
        joined one by one
interlocking passionately.
My grandmother’s uncle used to sit with her
out on the porch, silently drawing his long fingers down
        the nerves to the sensitive palm
I now caress your arm.
I notice the scratches
White ridges
I press your fingers against my mouth, one by one
and feel the crisp nail above my lip
        the cold flesh between my kiss
I fingered my top lip trembling
you said I was pretty interesting
I said you were really nice
What shitty adjectives.

 

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