The callouses

There are callouses in the palm of my hands

that I can’t seem to remove

whatever I use.

I have tried hand creams

and moisturizers

and serums,

yet they remain.

Most of the scars I got

from my years there have vanished

but not the callouses,

and when I hold her hands

she feels them,

skin and flesh

as dead as cheese grater

and tells me of this new cream

that works like a miracle,

although I have lost faith in those.

she winces

imagining what I went through

and wants to fix it

and me along with it

like vet fixes a stray

or a magician

fixes a deck of cards.

There are buildings In this city

with scaffolding around

all year long

yet

no one seems to be working

on anything.

And the building still stands

and people still go

in and out,

and their lives

adapt around the scaffolding.

I will tell her someday

but currently,

I'm not prepared for that fight.