We seem
to have different reaches.
Yours along the curvature of
my delicate fingers.
Mine is longer,
gripping around the tendrils
of your open chest.
Two people looking
for different things.
But looking just the same.

Mother. Wife. Friend. Lover. Self. All of them at once and sometimes none at all. I write to explore relationships and to help make sense of the world.

Mother. Wife. Friend. Lover. Self. All of them at once and sometimes none at all. I write to explore relationships and to help make sense of the world.

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