5.3.18
Her left hand poised, dabbling at keys,
my right hand jabbing at my own keyboard.
"It's hard to write a paper with one hand," she comments,
and instinctively, I glance down at our interlocked fingers.
"Do you want me to let go?" I offer.
She answers quickly, not a second passing.
"No," she said, and instead, she squeezed my hand tighter.
my right hand jabbing at my own keyboard.
"It's hard to write a paper with one hand," she comments,
and instinctively, I glance down at our interlocked fingers.
"Do you want me to let go?" I offer.
She answers quickly, not a second passing.
"No," she said, and instead, she squeezed my hand tighter.
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