I stare at his shoes on my lap. My eyes see them.

My small hands caress over the tough leather. My touch feels them.

They are empty today. Like him, sometimes.

I place my feet inside them today. I fill the emptiness, for him, sometimes.

They feel cold today. Like him, sometimes.

I wriggle my toes calmly today. I move to provide the warmth, for him, sometimes.

They are big today. Like him, sometimes.

I make my feet bigger with fluffy socks today. I am smaller, for him, sometimes.

They are unravelled today. Like him, sometimes.

I untangle the laces today. I tidy the tangles, for him, sometimes.

They look tired today. Like him, sometimes.

I polish and brighten them today. I reenergise and renew things, for him, sometimes.

They are mine to hold today. Like him, sometimes.

They are safe in my care today. I provide the protection, for him, sometimes.

I stare at his shoes on my lap. His eyes will see me again. Soon.

My small hands caress over the tough leather. His heart will feel me again. Soon.