Holding

See,
I get to
hold
your hands,
and
feel the
strength
in
return
from the
grip that
we
built
together,
like
when the
stars
decided
to
jump around
like
children
released
for
recess.

It’s our
turn
to set
these sails.

See, holding
your
hands means
something
wild,
and the
efforts the world
makes
to
hang
us dry
just
don’t matter.
I’m
gripping
the life
back into me.

See, I
remember
when I held
your
hands
for eight
solid
hours, and
you
smiled
and
a simply
allowed
me
to
just
keep
driving.

M.C. Davis

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