One day

Can I hold your hand?

Let it be my anchor

for when I drift too far,

and need help to remember where I center from.

Let it be my strength,

so I know I have reserves during weak moments,

when my knees cannot hold me up.

Let it be my softness,

a place to be tender,

skin to cheek,

a reminder I can be vulnerable

and still remain myself.

Let it be my tomorrow,

a place to dream and wish.

Your hand is my home.

It connects me to the heart

that is my very breath.

Your heart, your hand.

You make me possible.



Poet Note: If wishes were fishes