Close your eyes and trace your lover's hands on a piece of construction paper that you can buy for free from your generous eyelids. Draw each crease, each vein. Highlight all the wrinkles that form his knuckles. Don't smudge the ink. Keep drawing. Pay attention to the curves and sharpness of his fingernails and the skin that forms the topmost part of his fingertips. You forgot to sketch a light crease on his left hand. Now color in those knuckle wrinkles. Make his hands become a universe all their own. Keep your eyes closed. Finish sketching his cuticles.
Fold the piece of construction paper. Frame it. Let it remain folded and framed for years and years and years. Put it up for sale, but never sell it. Say the price tag was a mistake because the value of your art is as valuable as the constellations in his eyes. You'll draw those next time.
Fiction, poetry, and all that good stuff . . .