hands are marrrvelous
of how beautiful they were and of the weird crevices between our fingers.
and then you took mine and you felt it for a moment, ran your fingers across my bones, before letting go. you smiled.
that was when i realised that i do love you. not in the shallow sense, and not in a way that makes me curl up inside myself to defend my heart. it’s natural and honest. you are the only person who could ever make me feel like such a part of something. when i experience something especially beautiful, i always think about how you would appreciate it. i text you and i write to you: “you would love this”, “you would have loved this”, “i wish you could be here”.
it makes me so incredibly happy to see the look on your face when you say, “yes, i do too.”
and you smile and i think of hands.
