Your Hand.

I sit and wonder,

What would it be like to hold your hand?

You; me, hands clasping each other.

My lungs gasping for air as I begin to flush,

to blush,

to rush with my words.

My voice barely audible as you squeeze my hand,

skin on skin,

our fingers wrapping themselves around each other.

Maybe you’ll rub my skin with your thumb as we walk together,

while our hands intertwine.

While we swing our arms back and forth,

perhaps humming a song,

Or speaking in rhymes.

Your grip will probably be steady,

soothing as your skin brushes mine,

While mine would be quite the opposite.

Oh, how I know that holding your hand

would be the opposite of bland.

But for now,

these

are

solely

my

fantasies.

10.6.2020