Jesus, all I can see is them holding hands. It is in the way that their hands move... desperate, clinging to life, reaching out for a foundation... and finding it over and over... it is the touch of connecting, a oneness.
There is something more, one hand says I am dying... the other I am living.
I can't shake it nor do I want to it replays over and over and at the strangest times of the day. I want it to be our hands.
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