of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you
our mittens knitted close together,
a youngster pair learning to skate in cahoots.
my hand swiftly (bashfully) offered before you slip and tumble
wholly, giggly and clinging to one another
forever on the brink of pulling the other down,
yet careless for we knew we'd surely collapse in unison
lightly floating our way down as the rest of the world fell away
without for a second letting go of your cool and knitted hand