It was a night as black as the oil pumped from the frozen ground
of that busted town. She wore a red dress.
Their first glance was one of knowing. Knowing
this was the start of something.
His two hands found her two hands. He fell for them, out loud.
He fell for the blood running through them.
He loved her hands, wildly.
Like somehow, he was a man who had loved her hands before.