This hand, my hand
I know it so well.
What it has touched,
or what has touched it.
It has grabbed, snatched,
traced, caressed,
tapped, waved,
held.
But it hasn't held yours.
Do you, your hand,
know it well?
And you, your hand
is something mine
knows well, although
they have never touched.
When this, my hand,
settles in yours, your hand,
it will know:
they were meant to be
hand in hand.
