I see you and
You look to be alone,
Perhaps comfortable
In your
Solitude.
But I wish to join you
Despite my
Apprehension.
I don’t know who has
Held those hands before
Or if their hands
Were worthy…
But I stand here wishing
To hold them now
To see where such
Things go.
My hands are old and calloused
Yours so young and soft,
As if they’ve never held
The world
So tightly…
I’ve choked the world
With these hands
And still my palms
Left empty,
But I brushed your
Face and felt your
Cheek and so
Touched the
Possibility.
