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Not yet dead

Hand Me the World Again

April 16, 2021

By the holding of my hand
all pieces fall
back into all places.

Your smooth hands, are
my hands too.
Same nails and
same fingers,
I always wanted your eyes
but I got your fingers.
I love your fingers,
I will take your fingers

I will take them in my hand
when I am scared,
Just like now.
When I am tired,
As of now.
When I am lonely,
You make my world
one again
when you grip my hand,
when I grip yours.

You make my world safe again,
when you take my hand in yours.
Hold on tight!
You scream in pressed fingertips to curled palm,
and I
can't help but wonder
if I make yours whole too,
when I hold fast right back
at you.

It's scary,
The world is cold,
and I'm old-
er now and seeing
the frost.
I push you away
as the world crumbles,
into my time to be on
my own.
I push you away,
when I try to stay close at your side.
We're all pushing away,
it seems.
But I really
don't want to let go yet.

When you hold our hands,
I feel all right. 
I feel as though,
the frost is mending itself to snow.
And the wonder of flake is renewed,
as though the world isn't barren,
but a wondrous snow day.
The icy divisiveness,
is just the pretense for a
downy flake.

We entwine,
at fingers length.
And in the flurries of
chilling indifference,
we catch them
on tongue.

And you have saved my world again.


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  • April 16, 2021 - 9:33am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • Ava Marie

    This is so beautiful, the lines "the frost is mending itself to snow./ And the wonder of flake is renewed," so perfect.
    Also, welcome to WtW!!!

    24 days ago