Little Hands

Your little hands reaching for me.
Flowing tears from scraped knees.
Screaming laughter that can't be controlled.
Try to slow the seconds and minutes before you go.
What happens when you can pick up your own pieces?
Stuffies are replaced with skin treatments.
Huge hugs replaced with a perfectly placed eye roll.
Can we go back?
Back to the boo boo's only my kisses could heal?
Back to the "I love you this much" arms, outstretched wide.
We'll dance in the living room.
Spinning until we're dizzy and fall to the floor.
Your little hands reaching for me.