Café Philos: an internet café

The hands remember
More than the mind your skin

They think of their own will,
“This was the shape of her”,

When they find themselves cupped
Or curled in a certain loose way

Around the curves
Of you no longer here:

The left hand
Especially so.


Yes, I know
now
My left hand
Knew you one way,

While my right hand
Knew you another.

Was either best?