I love your hands. Your hands always find mine when I’m nervous or scared, squeezing slightly as if to say ‘I’m here for you, you’re not alone’. Your hands softly brush the hair from my eyes as you lean over to kiss me goodnight. They often flail around as you tell stories or run down my spine as we cuddle up close. Your hands can stir so many emotions in me but, most of all, when I feel your hands I know that I am home.
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