Handprints

It's super hot in my room
and I'm not gonna lie...my palms started to sweat.
Aside from the heat, I've been writing notes..poems...just writing...
for the past 3 hours...so yes, my hands are sweaty.
I can barely grasp my pen anymore.
My fingers keep slipping.
So, exhausted, I decided to read instead.
I placed my novel on my desk...and held it down with my left hand as I read.
My right hand gripped the edge of my desk for support...in case something in the book would catch me off guard.
After 2 hours and 8 chapters...I came back to this life.
Amused and satisfied...I decided to get a glass of water.
I removed my left hand from the worn pages
and peeled my right hand from the silver desk.
It felt sticky.
I looked down at my palm and saw the silver paint had clung onto my hand.
I stared at the desk.
My handprint was etched into the desk...small and dainty.
I looked closer.
His handprint was etched into the desk...strong and unfailing.