Holding Hands

You wouldn’t hold my hand
I sensed – Not saw – Your
Creased Forehead
Deduced from the set of your Jaw
The nape of your
Neck and the bravery of your shoulders
That refused to cry

I was wrong

So unforgivable
That my memory
Has saved me from the details

We walked beside each other
And realized that the pace was wrong
I had a limp
Caused by the lost counterweight
Of your hand in mine

I crooked a finger in your belt loop
Swung in time with your angry hips

Unconvincingly you tried
To brush me away
Instead our palms nested in each other
Followed through

Our bodies didn’t hide
But forced a grudging confession
Or our mutual need

And therefore
Our love