Your Hands

When we first met, we walked into a bookshop together.

I showed you a poem by Pablo Neruda called Your Hands.

You told me when we met, that you know if someone is right for you by how the touch of their hands feel.

You tried to hold my hands when we met, but I was moving around too much.

I was very excited.

We were sitting together in the park, and you tried to hold my hand.

I took your hand first.

That was a life-changing moment.

Everything felt right in that moment.

I went to your home with some wine.

We kissed for the first time.

I never wanted that kiss to end.

Leaning on your shoulder felt like home.

Like when two puzzle pieces fit together.

Without the other, there is a missing piece.

It feels like we are two trees with the same roots.

I always lose myself in you.

I wish that I never had to leave your arms.

You are strong, and you always protect me.

I feel so lost in the crowd without you.

Everyone else fades into the background.

You are the one that I have always waited for.