Your Hand

I miss the touch of your hand,

When you stroked my hair and skin,

Then won my heart with your grin,

You touched me with fierce and gentle care,

Fired up my inner desire with a pleasant flare.

I miss the touch of your hand,

When you caressed my skin on that cold night,

Igniting my gloomy world with a burst of light,

Made love to me with pure confidence,

I felt like I was nothing but prominent.

I miss the touch of your hand,

When you traced my scars on that Sunday evening,

You gave my life a whole new meaning,

Your touch sparked me up like electric,

You saw me as an equal and never an eccentric.

I miss the touch of your hand,

When you grasped mine after that afternoon fight,

You held it tight and never slight,

With reassurance and acceptance,

Calming me down until I was content.

I miss the touch of your hand,

When you held mine in the morning,

It was comfortably soothing,

We stayed in bed for quite some times,

Knowing that everything was fine.

I miss the touch of your hand,

Because those are just the memories,

Of our time together that are like remedies,

Pieces that I can never leave behind,

And love that I will always keep in mind.

• • • • •

:small_red_triangle: Thanks for reading.

:book: Happy Reading :book:

Artist: Elly Smallwood

Image Source: Elly's Facebook page

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