I watch your hands
As they touch things--
(swirl a pen,turn a page)
And recall how heavy they were
When you held me
Tentatively, wonderfully, fearfully
Like an unripe peach, a lotus bud,
How you did with me things
You couldn't do alone.
And your hands still move as if
Still promising to do the same for me.
And I thought: be still, my heart
Time makes excuses for itself.
Then feel, with a slight tenderness
And a drag of regret,
This lost love.