life without the callouses

she almost came last night
when my fingers nudged her lips
o p e n
and the kisses she wanted
to give the world
spilled onto my skin
like melted chocolate

neither of us wanted
that timeless embrace
but we welcomed it
like an old friend with
a bottle of wine

as she sleeps
I trace her outline with my eyes
and remember life
without the callouses

I was her,
once.

[Spur of the moment, forgive the skeleton of a poem.]