Hands Hold

There is something special about holding hands. Like the memory of a warm hand you held to cross both the road and life.

Or the little companion’s hand you held to when reprimanded together.

There’s something about holding human hands.

The way it makes you feel so alive within.

The way you curl and uncurl fingers as if they were one and together.

Across the years, you realise there was something about holding hands when you stretch your fingers into aloneness and the wind wafts a sensation across upheld fingers.