his fingers are not soft like a womans,
yet they are not hard like a mans.

                                  Emil is gifted with the crafts he weaves
                             betweens fingers that surprise and captivate

For one such as he is not expected to have hands that
create beautiful but terrible things. Does one see how
he toils? Like a creator, a minstrel to his own music, it
was how he operated.

        He forgot about swords.

             A knife took it’s place, creating a peace of art
                               in the shape of food.

His fingers are not soft like a woman’s

       yet they are not hard like a man’s.

                                                           These are hands which have known
                                                           hardship and ease. War and Peace.

Yet for each thing his hands are, there is another part
of them that they are not. His hands grasp warmly at
another’s, no judgement to hot or cold, instead just a
genial twitch of lips, calmly offering acceptance.

For his hands are not judging,

         and his fingers are not soft.
                    yet they are not hard either.