She showed me her hand.

Every slight as her face. She smiled at me.

I watched her hand pull away and hold out the slimy yellow stuff.

Each time she pushed and pulled her hand in and out of the giant pan,

she laughed. She laughed hard.

As she pulled out her hand for the last time, she smeared my face in curd.

I began to laugh, I laughed hard.

As the next tourists walked in I was dancing my hand in and out of that giant pan.

I lifted my hand at a young girl and smiled.