Never in my life
have I longed more
to hug someone.
I can almost feel him in my arms
bigger than me
and somehow, smaller,
one of my arms around his side,
its hand pressing, firm, steady on
his back.
The other arm goes over his shoulder,
its hand stroking,
desperate, soft at
the hair that messily creeps
down from his head
to the top of his neck.
Skin is warm.
Not as warm as the
Fire
I dreamt consumed him.
The breath from his nose,
goes onto my neck,
he's not scared,
and still, he lets me hold him
hugging back gently
with present reassurance.
His hands meet each other
fingertips touching as his palms circle
my waist.
Finally, I am calm.
How nice that would be?
What a shame I've
never met him.
