Lonely Hands

my hands are sometime a lonely place
desperate to find your hands hiding within them
am I always to be a slave to memories of you
longing for that moment of your hands in mine
of your hands being our hands.
I would scarce know how to breath
and close my eyes for fear of that
the next breath would not come
when you would be my last mistake
I raise my voice and sing in whispered praises
transposing your name anew
A prayer upon my lips
again and again
until I had sung every syllable
fresh kisses on your skin thru your name
as I taste the salty moonlight there
I would be your slave or your king
abandoning all memories past
for memories yet to come
for those moment with you in my arms