My Hands Look Good On You

You are fluid
water flowing with the most profound
sinuosity
I am jagged
mountainous terrain known for it’s
vulgarity

You are satin
lustrously embracing all you touch in
luxury
I am sandpaper
harshly massaging the senses with
crudity

You are cream
serenely tickling the tonsils with
velour
I am whiskey
bitterly stinging the throat with
gravel

You’d be excused for thinking
that you and I
might not
compliment each other
but when I take you
in my rugged mitts
you cannot help but agree that
goddamn it
my hands look good on you.