I Will Always Kiss Your Fingertips

I think kissing someone’s fingertips is the most intimate thing a lover can do.

Here are your hands-they have been many places, no doubt. Some that I don’t care to know about. But here they are, your weathered yet soft, fragile and strong-


I get to hold them. They have held magic, in the form of a puppy or newborn baby or glitter.

A freshly washed apple that they picked off a tree.

You have, undoubtedly, moved these hands back and forth whilst they were raised in the air; with the intention of greeting someone. Or perhaps saying goodbye.

You have made waves with your hands, in more ways than one. In a bathtub, in an ocean. In the air. Out of a car window.

Your hands have cupped faces, warm drinks, flowers; joy. Your hands have felt salty tears, your hands have written words so eloquently and passionately that your hands needed a break.

Your hands feel everything first.

Warmth, cold; embraces, rejection.

How lucky am I, to hold your hands.

Your hands house your fingers, the arguably most intentional appendages on our human bodies. With your fingers you have made decisions; you choose.

Before you could even speak, with your fingers you pointed at the red balloon floating away in the sky; you pointed at what you wanted, at what amazed you and captured your attention.

I point at you.

With your fingers you found that quote on a page full of words, that your naked eyes could not find on their own.

Those fingers have traced the outline of a jawline clenched tight in anticipation. They have traced the veins on a newly fallen leaf, and the imperfect curve of a human smile.

Those fingers have created art in the form of smiley faces on fogged up windows and shadow puppets and face paint; they have written sentiments in the sand.

The most wonderful thing about fingertips, however, is that they are like no other. Not even one another.

Your fingers, at their peak, hold the very prints that have imprinted on many hearts. They hold power and finesse and promise.

Your fingers have pointed at shooting stars, snowflakes, sunrises and clouds.

I will always kiss your fingertips. Thought Catalog Logo Mark