Hand Balancing.  Why is it that my hands fit so perfectly in yours?  Why do the ribs of my chest fit in your abdominal cavity, and my shoulder blades fit under your rib cage, and my neck upon your breast bone, and my ear upon your heart, your pelvis within my womb, and my hips within your thighs as your legs encircle to embrace me, locking your grasping grip behind my knees as I clasp ankles tightly together.  We seem to float and fly into another dimension when merged together as one.  Interlocking.  Why do my hands fit as though they were meant to be held by you.  Why do I fit so perfectly inside of you?  Because you are my home.  Where my heart lives.  Where I belong.

The only time I have ever felt at home on this planet and among this race, is the moment I spent living with you.  And at that moment that you welcomed me home within your arms, I could see no further, I could see no more than beyond life spent with you, for all eternity.  Nothing mattered more.

I would give everything up and follow you to the ends of the earth, if only you would hold my hands and lead me there.  I listen to the music of our hearts as they merge together, creating new waves of sound bouncing off the walls in space, infinitely; and to that music, I imagine that we dance together, infinitely.