I do not touch
anyone.
Not really. Nothing more than a
pat on the back or a palm on the arm to
get their attention and yet -
and yet.
And yet I took your hand and you took mine
and our fingers entwine
and our palms kiss
and it feels electric and I still do not touch
anyone
but you.
But you, who are stronger than you know,
you know.
I have seen you stand
tall,
brave,
defiant
in the face of brutes and giants who would do you harm.
I run away and possum play
but if I could borrow your courage,
I could be worthy
of you,
of your crown.
People slander; dragons plunder:
take us far apart and
steal our gold;
come between our palms and fingers,
until I can no longer touch
anyone
even you.
Dragons come and steal our gold
but they cannot steal our
golden words
or the courage that you lent me.
There is no difference between
brutes or giants or dragons
or the people who would do us harm.
We will hold steady
our golden words,
our strength,
our hands,
whether they must hold in battle or in between each other's fingers.
I do not touch anyone but you;
I do not need to.