Fragile Grasp

Her skin, thin as folded paper,

rests against my palm—

soft, trembling, like a breath caught

between the cracks of waking.

Her fist curls tight,

a knot of life tangled in my fingers,

a quiet storm beneath hospital lights.

Her breath catches—small, unsure—

breaking open something locked inside me,

a slow flood I didn’t know was waiting.

In this stillness, holding everything,

I feel the weight of all beginnings,

tiny and breaking,

and the silence screams.