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The Feel of His (or Her) Hands
Poetry or prose about the first time you held someone's hand. Tag me!
Aslihan

How My World Was Completed When He Held My Hand

Big and wide. Strong and promising. Safe...

The ecstasy of feeling loved...for the first time.

The feeling of oness and completion for the very first time in a world where I could only feel worthless and incomplete. The joy of feeling like I have cracked the remedy for my depression. The joy of someone accepting you for who you are.

His hands were big and mine were petite. But, this felt like the most perfect imperfect match. His masculinity activated with my soft feminine touch and my femininity flourished with his mascukine grasp. We were like the yin and yang. It was the purest form of completion. In that moment I knew that we both needed each other.

It’s amazing what the touch of your desired male can do. How it can make you feel like you are worth something in this world. It is amazing how it can make you love yourself while you failed to do it on your own.

I remember being very convinced that he was never going to leave me the day he held my hand. I knew in my gut that I would hold that hand through thick anf thin. It was promising, safe, and took me to fairyland.