I’ll use my hand to slosh water where I want it or froth up the soap suds, or my nails to scrape at something stuck-on. It always feels like a hack, something I’d forgotten I could do. it reminds me of what perfect tools my hands are.
I can’t always count on my hands to work anymore but today my fingers can write and I can do my makeup and make art. I miss a childhood I never had, where just for a moment nothing would hurt and I would not wonder whether I was normal
