Hands are the identity of experience.
Two of the loyal servants.
Weathered and calloused are the scars of work.
Been there. Done that.
Hell, they provide for a family.
They give life and touch love.
Hands are the story that’s hardly told.
Grip, squeeze, toil.
Caress, touch…they’ll make you writhe.
They’ve helped build this world.
Tell me about your hands.
Are you proud?
Do they have enough integrity to hold a soul?
© copyright 2015 Denise Rafkind Photography