| Your hands fit so well between mine
that my hands miss them- between the cracks of my fingers where yours used to be. Between the places where so idly your fingers did rest, when I wasn't so busy with kissing their tips. Where your fingers did rest while yours eyes met mine, while we stared into each others' until the sun set 'to night; When the daystar had sunk and then the stars had come up, and your eyes had both closed, but it was still your fingers, b'tween mine. |