Quivering hands meet and lace to the skin. <br />Delicate is your palms although nervous with attention. <br />Time dwindles as the clock spirals in its intervals, <br />and latched hands make way to ones rest. <br />Lay your head down and close your eyes for now, <br />The night's darkness seems to be burning away. <br /> <br />Exhausted eyes meet trite surroundings, <br />We lay the day away, the sun falls asleep now too. <br />As do you, on my shoulder lays your pretty face. <br />Exhausted from another day where hearts conflate, <br />but it's well worth it to hold your gentle hands this late.<br /><br />Moth Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/placid-nox/
