A raised palm
wonders
at the responses
to it,
by those
purported
to have brains.
Sometimes,
drunk on prestige
making contact
and impact
with a face;
who does she think she is ?
Sometimes,
wallowing in importance,
stopping her,
secretly tickled
about his ability
to dictate a NO
And a few times,
delighted,
happy
with her success
touching palms,
up there,
high fiving it,
in celebration with her….
It takes two palms
to make this,
a contented life…
and no one’s hand is higher …..
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