From far away, your visage is an outline, a delineation…a
contour of you against the world, a flower stem arching upwards through a
crack, a portrait etched slightly across the horizon. I imagine the collapse of distance between
us, compressing, contorting, anticipating, hurrying…air molecules colliding as
they get pushed by our gravity condensing together…
You enter my mind’s eye sweetly, your stare scorching, your
eyes tracing their dark charcoal path and the hot-candy presence of you
completing the damage. Fusillade from afar. I can still see the distant smoke of where
you stood and where you landed upon me, inside of me…through me.
So very different when you are near me, point blank, close
enough to see the blink, hear the breath, the slight movement of hands. Dangerously close, close enough to touch,
close enough to reach. Close enough to
grab and twist and close enough to know not to run. And knowing not wanting to run anyways. Proximity fuses, detecting, exploding,
destroying. A salvo of sensory inputs…tearing, ripping,
shredding in their devastating closeness.
You enter my mind’s eye starkly, your stare blazing, your
eyes enveloping me in their wholeness and the corona of your presence radiating
throughout me. You explode inside of me,
devolving, bits of you hurtling into me, visceral, bone-snapping,
tissue-ripping, energy-sapping, heart-tearing, until the whole of me has become
a hole from you.
What have I learned from you? How much you can hurt.
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