Hands

hands

Fingers enfolded one into the other
intertwined like lace
holding on with gentleness
and firmness and grace

His hands are long and slender and marked by work
Mine are short and chubby and perfectly polished
And yet when they are placed together you can not tell
where his begin and mine end

His hands reach for mine
In the truck, on the street
As we walk in the woods
He is always reaching for and finding my hands

My heart is in his hands
He holds it like he holds me
Firmly yet gently as is i were rare and breakable
And i know only love in that embrace

I am at peace
In his hands

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