HandsShe felt him holding her hand
Then he was gone
His touch had been light
Feather-like
Dancing streams of daylight
In her world

Then gone
Taken
Removed without heart it seemed
She thought about that hand later
And wondered why
He’d ever held hers at all

Strange to think of that now
Much later
A recurring thought
It’s true
Holding someone’s hand
And believing it could be true

But a hand is not a relationship
That requires much more
Although it seemed like
Wait, none of that
They were satellites
Nothing more
Another time
Another place
Another shore
Can’t wait
Wanting more

Just a hand
Offering less
Confusion
Just a test
Hating this

A tide needs more than a hand
To guide it back to shore.