Touch that is transportive, that takes you elsewhere.
Tender, full, generous, enveloping. Infusing spirit into deadened appendages. The feeling they lacked seemed abstract, but now, alive.
Insatiable. Like rain soaked soil pretending it did not need water.
It was just a random invitation. She didn’t think accepting it would have such a heavy cost. When it was all over, she wondered, was it all a dream?
For me, our metaphors feel natural, even intimate. Psychological metaphors are how I signal confidence without collapse.
Many may enjoy the glow of the fire, without being able to tolerate the gravity.
Back up from the fire, if you don’t want to get burned.
I learned to divide myself
not out of cleverness
but out of need.
To keep the engine running,
each part learned its station:
one for winning,
one for not sitting still long enough
for the floor to give way.
Stillness was expensive.
Motion paid the bills.
I organized my inner life
like a system under pressure
efficient,
quiet,
appearing whole.
You can know it was final.
You can know why it ended.
You can feel clear about .incompatibilities and timing.
And the heart still says: I miss her 😰.
the Purgatory of a Broken Heart 