you’re hands are a blessing;
washing away the fear
tracing your fingers along my worries
pushing your thumbs deep into my anxiety
flowing away-
falling asleep in your grasp
an angel pulling a bow back back deep into my heart
chop chop and depression won’t raise his hands to you
never lay a hand on my honey
all over my back, warmed
holding the arrow
asleep with your hands
Saint's Muse 