Hold Someone's Hand: Poem

A poem about connecting.

Hold Someone’s Hand

My hands transmit the love of the universe.

But there's nothing special about my hands.

Unless you consider how incredible

it is that humans evolved appendages

capable of making tools, talking, and touching.

There's something special about all of us.

How a palm can fit so neatly around an ankle

no matter who's palm or who's ankle.

How feet contour to the curve of a back or a leg.

Walking isn't just for moving the body through space.

That moment when you realize 

your joints are mobile

for reasons other than yourself, 

you become

so much larger. 

The skin doesn't end at the edge of your body.

Feelings arise not just within you, but beyond you.

We aren't suspended in space 

but incased in the goo of the big bang.

Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

Hold someone's hand and tell me that's not true.