Awakening

Awakening

How can you ask me to hold on?

I shake my head

but the refusal is weak

placing my hands cautiously into your own

your fingertips pull me back

looking down at your hands

away from your eyes

I search everywhere for you

when you are right in front of me

Your asking fills the empty space

where there was nothing

only a dark, yawning silence

now throbbing

a cacophony to my awakened senses

The frostbitten soul stings 

like a sunburn

when returning to the body

painfully awake...

Angela Minard 2014©