Hands Tiny hands, Cling to my thumb, Discovering me like new lands, Leaving my body far from numb. Awakening new senses, The melodious glow of my heart; Only speaking in future tenses, Safe in the knowledge that I'll never depart. Your arm around me, Your hand stroking her little head, This is perfection, and you can see The scene before you leaves nothing to be said. Bigger hands, Pressed against my stomach, Rubbing it where my tears land, Why is it that you have such a knack? You awake senses in me I don't know exist, Your arm there to provide care, Present tense is the one you enlist, Thinking only of the little bump that could be there. Your arm around me, Your hand stroking my head, This should be perfection, and you can see The scene before you where so much needs to be said. Empty hands And empty heart, Looking back at those once discovered lands, Watching all my dreams slowly depart. Your arms around me, But I feel so lost, Wondering aimlessly Amidst the January frost. This could have been the beginning, Of something truly wonderful, of #life as one; The beginning of the beginning, But now it's all gone.