Your hands

Your hands
like rivers carved by time
Guided my wintered soul
to warmth
Fingers long as harp strings
Soft as moss on stone
When your beard
brushed my cheek
A forest of shadows
danced on my skin
And the kiss lingered
As if winter had breathed spring
into my veins
Your eyes
dark lakes beneath a rainy sky
Tell stories
that dare not find words,
And in every glance
a secret hides
A weave of pain and beauty
only you can bear
Your voice
a wind brushing over the hills
Whispered my name
like a prayer
And in the silence that followed
My heart stood still
caught between
dream and reality