To be held
is to be known.
Physical whispers of
I see, I’ve seen, I hear, I’m here.
To hold
is to tell a secret.
Vulnerable confessions of
I want, I’ve waited, I will, I’m still.
Do you ever get the feeling that
we don’t pause enough
for embrace?
You’re succeeding but you’re
not feeling,
they’re applauding but left
craving your tenderness.
Scream if you want to go faster,
wave if you want to be held.