Hands
I remember your hands
The way your wrinkles flowed so perfectly.
The way I tried to kneed them out
Pressing your hand flat in between mine.
Trying to unbend your wrists.
Whispering to you
I wish, I wish your hands didn’t do
Didn’t do like that.
I remember your palms
The way they gently cupped my fingers.
The way it fit perfectly over my hand.
Sleep over
I held your hand all night once
I woke up still holding it.
Sat next to you in the morning
One hand in yours
The other on a small cup of coffee.
Gifts
I wear your ring sometimes.
The gold one
with the word love
etched into it.
I like to think it was meant for me.