Holding His Hand

 

 

The skin sliding softly, palm against palm, fingers

Greeting each other, long lost friends, their hands

Touch and settle into a comfortable and

Symbiotic relationship; saying nothing but

Meaning everything.

A hand contracts slightly, a finger curls

Inward toward the other, slight friction

A small spot near the edge

Swinging a little forward

Backward

The hands grip sternly as a turn is negotiated, other people

Bumped as the sidewalk opens, the hands protective,

The empty walkway offers a wider path

A path forward, ever forward

Her smallest finger almost imperceptivity

Rhythmically

Gently

Caresses his palm

And

He knows and smiles without looking, his hand flowing

With the movement of walking, the gait matched my

Small squeezes of

His warm and contented fingers

She smiles and her hand

Squeezes

In return

The pathway forward, a smile lights her face

His eyes thank her for

Holding his

Hand.

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