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.