When I reach out for you
The first fumbling stretch,
The tiniest twitch of a finger
As if to bridge a vast ocean
Or pierce the atmosphere and extend into the cosmos,
Like it would take light years just to reach your outer rim—
What a surprise to make that miniscule move
And brush against you,
My trembling fingertips against your scarred palm,
You, right here,
Your hand stretched out to me since the day it formed me,
Your arm, the bridge over the endless void between us,
Shrinking space like an inverse red shift
To carry me home to your heart
Less than one breath away—
You, always the first to reach out for me
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