Dana Callista Lexa 🏳️‍⚧️

And romantic,
And sweet
And I understood it
The connection, feeling the other person's warmth,
The symbolism, two people reaching out to bridge the gap between them.
But what they didn't tell me was how her hand would feel in mine
How warm and soft it would be
Every movement, every twitch, communicating something without words
The infinite ways they can rest on each other, the ways our fingers can intertwine.
The difference between a quick squeeze, and held pressure, and just the weight of existing on top of each other
Brushing her hand with mine or just sliding one finger up and down the side of hers
To say, I'm here. It'll be alright. You're here too. I'll keep you safe. We're here together.
The ridges and lines of her palm, brushing against the tips of my fingers.
An entire language I never learned but we invented together, that every combination of people must be reinventing when they hold each others' hands.
I was told that holding hands was cute
Sometimes that it was naive, childish
Or bold, transgressive
What they didn't tell me, is that it would be everything.