Sometimes, there is a day or a moment in a day when the only thing in the world to do, the only thing in the world you CAN do, is hold hands and walk along the beach, the boardwalk, the park, the avenue and just be with each other. Share the same space without words: fingers linked, palms touching, wrists close together, forearms near each other, signaling love, conveying emotion, feeling each other.
Fingertips, knuckles, fingers, nails, skin, hands.
Fingers sliding to fit the spaces between hers; holding loose or curling up.
Holding hands anchors. Balances. Restores.
Holding hands connects, links, joins; one + one = three.
Holding hands is an act of intimacy.
Holding her hand in public is an act of intimacy, a visible declaration, and affirmation of YES WE ARE.
Now it IS true that not all women want to hold hands. It is equally true that not all women know how to hold hands with another woman and walk together. (Le Gasp!) Some need to be taught. And while I’m giving away Lesbian state secrets, not all women know how to kiss (Le Gasp x 7!!) but that’s not the point of this post.
But in some places in this world, including on this continent, it is still not safe for two women to hold hands.
It’s changing. Not fast, but it is changing. And so, when all the fanatics have screamed themselves hoarse, when the politicking is done — not exactly tomorrow because discrimination and inequality will not disappear overnight — two women can and will hold hands anywhere, everywhere; in no need of words, in no need of anything but that space, that time and each other; that space, time and quiet fullness of each other.