They're callused and cracked and left unmanicured.
They are hang nail ridden and the polish is half worn off.
They've doctored calves, cut calves and played nurse on horses' legs.
They've been burned and they have been painted up red and pink and spritzed with glitter.
They are and have been bloodied and beaten and they take a rest tonight with cuts and tears where skin should be tied.
They've been gloved with cotton and taped with any assortment to keep skin in place.
Pinkies have been broke, have been ripped clean to the muscle.
Golden skin has been burnt red and shivering in the cold.
They're dry and scarred and littered with silver rings.
They've been licked by cowdog pups, oiled saddles old and new alike and sharpened knives for the branding trap.
They hold poly and nylon coils, they dally in the heat and cold, wind and pain.
They've held the hand of a love and wiped the tears from reddened cheeks.
They are tough and possibly not approved of, but they are the hands of a cowboygirl.