Hands

does a hand come, disembodied
from the depths of hammerspace
to shelter your spark as you build a fire?
one does for me

and though i try now to live
to love
to bask in the light
i cannot find it in me to scoff at the dark
for that is where the magic trickles
from fingertips
from smooching lips
from lovers' hands on lovers' hips

and given a chance to pay it back
a hand reaching out to soothe
or protect or caress
or merely let someone know it's there
it exists
and it knows you exist too

you exist too
and i am thankful