Grasp

It’s 2 am and you climb back into bed.

I awake from the movement from your side, as you slither under the covers.

I softly murmur,

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You tell me you’ve been anxious and unable to sleep. I take my hand and clasp it together with yours — a small gesture of love and reassurance flow through my hand and fingers tips, spilling onto yours.

“If you need anything, let me know and wake me up.”

I coo sleepily.

We squeeze our hands gently underneath the covers, knowing that nothing could destroy this tiny grasp of love.

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