I held your hand, and now I won't let go
I reached for you.
Your hollow fingers flayed
within the Autumn breeze,
yearning to capture the
last breath the Earth inhaled.
Your palms blossomed
like winter roses,
needing the sun’s caress
to warm those frozen veins.
Your wrists shook,
revealing red lines of poetry
that wrote of night skies
darkened from loss of stars.
The breeze threatened to
to carry you away,
and I reached for you
across an eternity of solitude.
I held your hand,
Because I wanted to show you
the way the sun kissed your palms,
filling the hollowness of your fingers
with the warmth of a new day.
I wanted you to see
that its golden light
embraced red with ivory,
leaving you with a clean slate.
I needed you to feel
that I could reach you
across those realms of darkness
that have held you for far too long.
My fingers entwined with yours,
and I pressed my mouth
to those crimson poems,
in a plea for you to stay.
I held your hand,