His Hands

This poem describes my boyfriends hands.

Hands

His hands have rough spots like those of a snake
Maybe its from lifting weights.
He uses them to pitch a ball
Moving in fast speeds to never fall.
He grabs the dirt off the mound
To dry the sweat and rolls it around.
His nervousness gets to him like a toddlers first game of t-ball.
I ponder, and then ask “Why so nervous?”
No I don’t need any service?