About Holding Hands

holding hands
Originally uploaded by kelsie.

I had a dream. I woke up smiling.
It’s a humid day and the grass looks greener than ever. The tiny drops on each leave make it sparkle with tangerine sunlight. There are people walking around, the park moves with their voices and the living sound of birds. Benches are white and metal made, all used up. There is something to look at but never seen. Forward. Who knows?
And there are words but no one speaks. There is music but it’s so far that no one knows how it sounds. And there is a piece of ground made of concrete and white cement, perfect for laying on it, perfect for people who hate grass.
And there are two people. Two sets of eyes, two sets of legs, two sets of arms and hands. She wears jeans. He wears jeans. She sits first, he follows, looking straight ahead and paying attention. Still don’t know what they are looking at. But I can see her hand on the ground, her shoulder close to his. I dreamed in movie frames. A close up to his fingers moving, slowly one of them caressing hers, keep moving. Her finger makes a pass. One first, a second and one on one a whole hand on the other hand. Holding each other. And I cant see their faces but I know who they are. His hands filled with color pencils and magic markers, hers made out of strings and keyboards. I cant see them but they smile so wide I can feel their smiles.
She stands up and he follows. They walk together, smiling, hand in hand. And then the dream is over.
Then I woke up.