Life began when you held my hand for the first time.
When you whispered in my ear,
and told me quick promises about our life outside of here.

Life began when you held me up over the stars,
and told me I looked like a universe
and wished only to orbit around me,
holding my hips and breathing into my hair.

Life began when you touched your legs
and told me how you used to run away from home
because you weren’t happy,
and I hugged you close when you started to cry.

Life began when you skipped over streams
to reach the playground where I was sitting,
and you pulled out a handful of your heart
and poured it into my hand,
and I cherished it like I never had before.