Those Hands

In the spring of my 21st year,
I met a boy, or rather, a man.
As beautiful as he was arrogant,
As addictive as he was charming.

Those eyes, that smile, those hands.
I must admit that I fell in love with those hands.

With his hands he held me,
As we watched the beautiful sunrise,
After the long nightmare

With his hands he held me,
Through long walks by the sea,
As we played, laughed and

washed the past away

On endless nights of loving,
& love making, he held me.
Caressing my body,
Celebrating my being.
Always holding me.

I’d been held before,
& I’ve been held since.

But when he held me,
He held my body,
Held my heart.

He held the most intimate
Parts of me,
Gently caressed away my pain,
Calmed my fears.
He reminded me
Of what I’d long forgotten.

That I am something special.

Yes, I’d been held before,
And I’ve been held since,

But when He held me...

The Perfect Man...

I met the perfect man once,
I didn’t recognise his face,
But for as long as I shall live,
His memory I can never erase.

I spoke to a perfect man once,
He didn’t blow me away,
But the perfect love he gave,
I still reminisce about today.

I loved the perfect man once,
I had gold yet I didn’t know,
And I took it all for granted,
That I was all he’d ever want & more,

I left a perfect man once,
Chasing dreams & the superficial,
But I cannot still deny that,
His love was something special.