Holding Hands

I can always find my comfort and being when I am holding hands with someone I love. Most of the time I live so much inside my own head I feel very formless and disconnected. That contact and touch snaps me to physical reality and grounds me in a soothing way. I notice time when I hold your hand.

I like the communication that crosses back and forth from holding hands. There is a sweetness when you do it for the first time with someone. You shyly touch and find that right position. The levels of intimacy through holding hands is wonderful too. Interlaced fingers while making love is wildly intimate and erotic. The trust and control gaged by the restraint and measured tenderness of the hands, intoxicating.

Sometimes when I sleep with you I have you curled around me and I find your hand. I like to hold just your thumb. My hands are so small in yours that I can't comfortably hold your fingers interlocked, but I can grasp your thumb in the palm of my hand nicely. I'll sleep like that. My whole essence adrift in the universe of empty sleep but anchored in the world by your hand, your thumb in mine.