Two days ago, I had three conversations with three very different people. All three were beautiful, and made me feel alive.
It was wonderful electricity buzzing between hearts, as open and vulnerable as lying beneath the hand that could strike you.
I can never decide if I'm too broken, that no one can really know me, that some strangeness in my heart prevents it. The fear of that distance grows within me, shifts shape and size. Sometimes it is a stone at the back of my throat, worn and smooth like a river rock. Sometimes I feel it seeping out from underneath, unfurling like a flag.
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