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The art of Holding Hand
Your fingers brushed mine, a tender trace,
In that moment, time slowed its pace.
I wove them together, a delicate bind,
Our connection ignited, souls intertwined.

Your grasp was a shield, protective and strong,
A refuge where all doubts were proven wrong.
My hands I unsealed, to welcome you near,
In your presence, my doubts disappear.

Hesitation like whispers, a gentle refrain,
Yet I held on, through joy and through pain.
For in your embrace, my heart finds its song,
A love that's steadfast, where we both belong.
© charmidhruva