You held my hand
It slipped away
You tried again
I hissed and reluctantly held on.
You took me up a hill of interminable emotions, then into a gorge, jarring them as we journeyed.
Holding hands was a gesture I always questioned but gradually, I let myself unfold like the leaves of a new plant eager for the first rain drops but weary of the next plant’s thorns.
As the hours turned into days, I let my emotions flow like a river with no bank drifting across the waters where we sat clinking our glasses to our newly found cruise.
Our story, although untold Remains embedded in my skull.
You should have traded the silent exit with the melody of an AK-47 Don’t you think?
It would have been more effective than the prick of a mere thorn.