Hands...

She held her hand out…letting each fingertip find its match in his hand…coming together effortlessly…
And she felt herself smile cos of how it was making her feel… nothing… no wild fireworks…no crazy heart beats…just a simple coming together…just a hand reaching towards another…gentleness against gentleness…a satisfaction in knowing that when you hold your hand out, it will be there to give you something to hold on to…hand against hand…almost as intimate as heartbeat against heartbeat…just like a show of hands…a putting forward of all you had to offer being matched by all that could be offered…nothing more and nothing less…and she smiled as words he had once written ‘it’s the ordinariness of love that surprises me’…
Something about silence in a room full of two people that moves her…an acute awareness of another’s presence and yet a comfort and peace in it…the awareness that when words leave your lips, there will be ears to receive them…
He’d let her crawl close to him…shelter from the rain…found common sillinesses… laughed at them…held her when she hurt and made her believe that she was stronger than them…
Just another moment to add to who she was and all that she was becoming…
We are a collection of moments, she always said…
We are the moments that won’t leave us…enslaving us…
We are the moments that let go off…ease out of our minds…
We are the moments we choose to hold on to from a lifetime of moments…
We are, when we are open to moments…