I stop reading.

I look at these clumsily scribbled words.

I look at these fine print.

And I reach out my hand

to the page

and touch these words

to know

whether they really exist.

I reach out

to grab onto that hand,

so I can come out of water

for a moment,

to take breath

and remember what it was like

to not drown.

For that moment

I keep reading.

My father always told my sister and I
not to bite the hand that feeds.
But I look down at my hands
and see scars where my own teeth
have drawn blood.

my hands are always cold
but not when they're interlaced
with yours.

something about us is right.
i'm drowning in your light.

i never thought drowning
would be this nice.

The hand
which plucked the flower,
will wilt too.

Like the insect to the light, quite the opposite here.
In this duskless place, in this non shadow realm, they find the new shade beautiful.  
But why?
More and more of them were filling the room.  
Seeking out the darkest of dark.
The shadow of shadows.
The shade of shades.   I then realize that these little beautiful creatures are looking for the source.  They are looking for me.

I run about the room from corner to corner.  The little pattern shaped insect like creatures were getting closer and closer to me.  I did not want to touch such a beautiful being made of infinite light.  I don't know what my shadow touch would do to them. Would it **** them? Would it hurt them?  But then I find myself feeling as though they want to be touched. As if my darkness is their salvation.  The former light room now looked as if a bucket of black paint exploded inside of a white room.  There was shadow steps everywhere as well as shadow marks on the walls. It was not long after that The room was almost completly black with darkness.  The light insect like creatures looked like stars in space. I was the darkness they rolled on.   It soon got to the point where I was cornered.  The room was now filled with these beautiful creatures.  All of which knew I was in the corner of the room.  It was the only corner where light was left. As soon as that part of the room dimmed they all flew into me.  They swirled and spiraled around me.  It was amazing! It reminded me of a galaxy.  I opened my hand and one of them landed on it. There was then a beautiful shine and sound.  Then a voice uttered two words.  " Thank you."   The creature was gone.  Then I felt someone hold my hand!

She got much gifts from open hands
Those golden hearts from foreign land
But though they came from farther place
Their hearts are closer, oh such a grace
~
Somehow it's good to take and keep
Yet there are hands that do not sleep
They are not tired of sharing gifts
Helping others with no buts and ifs
~
She loves to see herself like them
Sharing her gifts, her precious gems
Even the gifts she has today
Her skills and talents, that's her bouquet
~
And now she finds another dream
Like mending rips from hem to hem
She wants to share her open hands, too
With songs of hope for me and you