fingers

fingers

I wasn’t going to write about mine
they make people uncomfortable, sometimes

my niece’s tiny ones are much prettier
my sister’s are much more elegant

my fingers they’re pretty; they’re long; they’re slender

but…

they make people uncomfortable, sometimes
’cause my clumsy ones don’t make fists

limp handshakes sweaty palms let you notice
a weak almost non-existent handshake

try not to make any kind of face as you realize
my hands won’t really work as yours

maybe you are a person who sees past fragility
as you grip them you’ll make connection

wondering how I’m typing this?
on my mini iPad in the dojo

my fingers are indeed plenty capable

I type with my right middle knuckle
and often my left pinky knuckle

they make people uncomfortable, sometimes
’cause they fear to ask how and why

I love little kids they look touch ask
it’s not rude

my fingers though…

they are powerful, God has blessed them

they have created whole new worlds
works of art that open eyes to my perspective

my fingers have written love letters, words of rejection
my fingers have brushed away tears
stroked another’s hair
played Connect Four
dug holes in sand
smashed ants but not spiders
changed diapers
released nearly impossible buttons
applied makeup to nervous brides

yes these fingers have lived

it’s OK that they make some uncomfortable
not everyone’s eyes work the same

Katerina Marks
5 March 2015

*To learn more about Charcot-Marie-Tooth, please visit: http://www.cmtausa.org