DECEMBER WRITING PROMPTS

Sweaty Palms

An annoyance for others, but a soft cushion for some

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

Sweaty palms,
A childhood condition,
Something I couldn’t do much about.
Since then,
I would fear,
Holding hands,
With anyone dear.

Naturally,
My hands,
No matter the weather,
Stay moist.
During winters,
The sweaty palms turn ice cold,
Turning away everyone in sight.

But then holding a hot cup of tea,
Or just laying my palms under the sun.
The slow travelling of the heat,
From my palms to my veins,
Fills my heart with joy,
As I can feel,
What it means to be alive.

Or how moist hands,
When touched,
Feel like a hug to some.
Or how,
The hands that turn cold,
Feel the pleasure of warm hands,
Radiating chemistry,
Between two souls.