Afterwards, you spoke as though a Titan had engulfed you
in the coves of ancient seas, swallowed your hand, mind,
bodywhole in caverns gouged by wisdom and wave.
Afterwards, you spread your fingers wide in wonder,
counting bones intact, unground, swore he could have squeezed
so you dripped like crunchy peanut butter from his grip.
Afterwards, you recalled his smile, it warmed more than his eyes,
they gave the silent law of man to man unfettered by chain
of land or creed or blood, older than a script or flint.
Afterwards, you said you felt a sense of purpose,
on the day you shook his hand, for mine.
Format changed for site restrictions
supposed to be 3x2 line stanzas followed by closing line.