Blackened fingertips reaching above wanting, needing to feel something of love.
Could it be there for me, this token of gratitude, this invisible strength that propels me forward.
Despite my faults, despite the headaches I've caused as I reach up towards utopia; you pull me up.
We're together at last, against the earth, holding hands.
I find that my fingertips aren't so blackened after all |
Submission Name: The Journal: Fingertips
