Hands In the Dark

As I warm those hands in the still of dark, the ones that knead my back on tired nights Squeezing me close to silence devilish thoughts Each finger, every caress an anchor of safety in our dwellings -- Embracing, reaching, assuring: While gazing at my own hands I find mine being similar to yours- Like extensions of time's ardor and rough play They become my endless harbingers ... But oh, yours are soft and delicate in all shades of light , Never grating through hard toil of day Warm as sunrise awakening. Here, I rub your coiled fist against mine Squeezing me close to silence devilish thoughts; Sure as tender rain, this heart knows-- You are my life- wire, my halfway bridge While your grip rests on mine until we sleep.