💋 The Weight of His Hands

His hands have never needed words —

they speak in the language of knowing.

There’s a gravity to the way he holds me —

firm, but never forceful,

like he understands that strength can be gentle too.

The weight of his hands reminds me

that love isn’t always soft —

sometimes it’s steady,

anchoring me when the world begins to blur.

They’ve learned the shape of my body,

the rhythm of my breath,

the difference between wanting and needing.

When he touches me,

it’s not to claim —

it’s to keep me here,

present,

seen.

There’s safety in that weight —

in the warmth that pulls me back into myself,

in the quiet promise that says,

you don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.

🕯 Some loves don’t lift you up —

they hold you steady.