Poem: “Here, This Air”

“Here, This Air”

Today my hands hold a memory.

Cupped inside is nostalgia and pain. I caress them both from one hand to another.

This love is alive, as real as the hands that hold it.

This pain is deep proof that once I held your loved head in my hands.

They were blind hands that did not know what they were holding.

I come to you now with never-empty hands.

Here, this air, this memory, will help you live.

One thought on “Poem: “Here, This Air”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s