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I want to hold your hand

I want hold your hand

I want it to completely envelope mine

I want to feel the hardened skin on your fingertips and press the soft skin preserved in the center of your palm

I want to feel the scars where nails pierces flesh

where hammers bruised bones

and blood shot out, dripping down wrists as you hung there naked.

in 7 days we will sit around a table

a turkey prepared in the center, overflowing with stuffing

the sweet smell of squash and sweet potatoes will float around the room

with our mis-matched glasses filled with cider and wine

and bent silverware posed beside empty plates

We will join hands and offer thanks

thanks for the meal

thanks for all you have done

I want to hold your hand

to squeeze it tight when it comes my turn to speak

you will squeeze mine back softly

pressing me onward

You loved me when I could not love myself

how can I thank you?

You met me in my darkness and waited patiently as I stumbled toward the light

how can I thank you?

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