These arms will protect you;
secure you from the threats of anything beyond them,
they will be your pillars of strength; to solidify your impression of security;
to bring forth what you desire; to be defended from the storms of life,
from the fires of hate, from the swords of lying tongues and the reach of deceit.
These arms will fight the sky itself if need be, and if they must fail, it will be only because they refused to back down;
to quit; to retreat from their sworn duty. These arms are yours.
These arms will support you;
they shall develop eyes like yours;
hair like yours; features that you reflect only to ensure that they, and you, are one in the same;
They will graft themselves to you to be the “shoulders” that you need.
Yes, they will become shoulders when you need them, feet when you can’t walk, they will help you run when we’re young;
they will reinforce your back when we’re old; they will be for you as you desire them to be.
They will hold you as you writhe in pain; pain of grief, even in pain of your monthly crossing,
these arms will hold you. These arms are yours.
These arms will caress you;
they will remind you of my willingness to cling to my vow, to love and cherish;
they will envelop you as you slumber, keep you as you sleep,
supply warmth to end your cold; they will cover you when there are no sheets,
they will be your headrest when there are no pillows.
Yes these arms are yours.
These arms serve;
they offer themselves as part of a whole, a whole that loves you;
a whole that reassures you that they will be there to be what you need them to be, & do what you need them to do.
Indeed, these arms are yours,