Your Hands

Your hands were so tiny,

your fingers barely wrapping

around one of mine.

Now I look at you

and your hands reach for my face—

holding me,

studying my lips.

I see your thoughts spinning,

calculating,

learning.

Your hands—

reaching for my face,

your palms as big as my cheeks now.

Your hands,

holding my face,

the most comforting place.

I miss you already.