I laid my life before you like an open palm
So you can feel the pulsing blood in veins, like rivers,
And stroke the skin gone stiff from frost, like fields.
Mark each bruise and blister, each cut of kitchen knife –
Hills and ravines on the map of my life.
Hold my hand
Until you brave hot springs inside my sweaty palm
And scale the icy peak of every finger.
Let it go – but not so sudden.
Where you have been is best left out of reach,
Some scenes unseen, some roads untrodden.
So hold my hand and linger
And don't forget to fold it
Finger after finger.