His Hands

164.25 days, .45 yrs
I miss a lot of things about him. I miss when he tells me he loves me especially. When he gives me his great big hugs and kiss attacks. Oh dam, I miss those kiss attacks they always made me smile. But for some odd reason I can't get out of my head his hands. His perfect hands and fingers that fit perfectly into mine. When he holds my hand and they fit perfectly between each finger. He squeezes my hands and kisses them. How when he touches me gently, i can feel my heart beating faster. I miss when he touches my face, it makes me feel on Im the only person for him and i feel on top of the world. when he runs his fingers through my hair and tells me he love me. When he touches rocky Balboa, and tells me Im beautiful. I miss all the small things he did for me.  I know this is weird and may think Im crazy, but his hands make me feel protected and loved. And for some reason i can't get them out of my mind.

“Falling in love with someone isn't always going to be easy... Anger... tears... laughter.. It's when you want to be together despite it all. That's when you truly love another. I'm sure of it.”

“Love is when you shed a tear and still want him, it's when he ignores you and you still love him, it's when he loves another girl but you still smile and say I'm happy for you, when all you really do is cry.”

“We fit together so well...it's like pieces of a puzzle, the way your hand fits the curve of my hip and the way my head rests on your shoulder, the way our hands just melt into one, and the way I feel complete when I'm with you...like the picture's finally completed and I'll never have to wonder what I'm missing.”

 ~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

each day I wait for your signs

in the morning when you awake

at night I count every finger of your hands

your hands of bones and summer blood

your hands which you say have forgotten how to dream

as if winter could ever wean its desires of spring

or birds in the morning tell lies

and refuse to sing

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

in late afternoon we were walking on the shore

several dozen feet above the waves a congregation of birds

seagulls, herons, pelicans

hungry searching for a meal

then in the next breath

dove a pelican

like a fleshy arrow into the sea

plucked a fish and went off

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I looked for you

on the beach

I wanted to lie down

next to you

on the cool sand

I wanted to show you why it’s important

to recognize the shape of your hand

the look of your hand

the special way to touch the lines

of your palm

the roads and paths

marks of eternity

I wanted to tell you about the pelican

how quickly it reached a decision

how it knew what to do

how to live and not die

but your hands which you say have forgotten

how to dream

your hands

which I look for

each day