HENNA HANDS

She cups my wrists and paints
the history of wives and daughters;

centuries weaving onto palms, desire
cloaked in stars and crescents.

Mehndi laced in orange and reds --
Drawn on tender canvasses.

Spirals daubed on feet and toes.
Paisley vows brides wear to bed.

Each stain tapped with care --
Coaxed to hold, then disappear.