You reached for my hand one morning,
while you were sleep,
as I just happened to open my eyes.
Your fingers found mine gently,
too shy to intertwine.
And as the sunlight lay across
your resting eyes, they flickered.
Then with a slight snore and a deep sigh
you rolled over.
But for the rest of the day all I could think about
was waking up every morning
with your hand reaching for mine.