Hands I have held and loved
Take the grounds into the filter and hand me the cup
Knowing how you take it and you need it as soon as you wake up
My father taught me how to make coffee when I was young
Making a cup for someone will always feel like love
Ritual of the caring
When I am back home, we always offer a cup to each other
Hands held and loved
Hands I have held and loved
The rings I have seen on my grandmother’s hands
For years
Across her kitchen table with the sticky top tablecloths
The claddagh ring
The mother’s ring with four stones
Different colors except for the twins of my aunt + uncle
Where we had our meals
Our coffee and tea
Played cards and long nights of monopoly with cousins
games never finished
And now the hands I have held and love
Are not in the same physical form
And those two rings are on my hands
My eyes watched my own lineage before me
now on the hands
Full of lines drawn only once and maps of where I have already been
Hands that have held and loved
Hands that will hold and love so many times we lose count