every freckle • a new universe

• vingettes • she / her • • writer / lover/ poet / multiversal traveler • late twenties • • written with human creativity and hands • FUCK AI •

[inkyfreckles]

A glimpse. A mere peek into that universe. A small moment in time. 

A vignette of our life elsewhere in the grand multiverse. 

I am grateful to even have spent a fraction of a moment witnessing our meeting in another life. Getting to see just how whole I already feel even though we had yet to meet until then.

I am back within our embrace. The gentle rise and fall of your chest as you stay sleeping, the freckle I chose first glowing softly, as if only for my eyes to be able to see. As if to let me know I had journeyed into that reality–that I could return should I wish to see more of it; should I ever wish to find out exactly the turn of events after our meeting in the park. 

I might go back, it was my first after all. I smile at the notion, trailing my fingers along the rest of your skin, moving from the first freckle to my next.

Onto the second.

June 13, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt 9.

[inkyfreckles]

I wish to ask what of his desire brought him to be in this particular park, on this particular day. I wish to approach with such charisma and spirit that even he would recognize my soul. I also don’t wish for him to know me just yet, to allow myself the freedom of discovery. This is how we meet in this universe, and I am here to witness it. 

To take part in it.

He seems to be sketching. I smile wide, a genuine love of the arts and creativity in this reality as well. He is a writer, much like myself, where we are from, and revel in our discoveries and words with one another. Here, it seems I am a bird and wildlife enthusiast, such as himself apparently; I peer around his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his sketch. The same oak, the same little finch. 

My heart skips a beat, I am already enamored–of course I am. He is my heart and soul after all. In this life and the next and the next.

I compose myself, a deep breath and a twirl of the binocular strings around my neck as I step next to the park bench he resides upon. His brown eyes glance up to me through those thick and beautiful lashes. I am speechless, my face burning hot, red, as I try to find the words to simply utter a ‘hello.’

“I saw you earlier.” He beams, his smile already ear to ear as he stands to greet me. “I thought we might have been looking at the same bird, although I must admit I thought you were staring at me with those things at first.” He gestures jokingly to the binoculars that have been made so very important to this reality. I blink at the realization that they are exactly what is meant to be our catalyst for love in this life. I wrap a finger around their strings, sharing in his palpable smile.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I hope I didn’t make you nervous, or disturb you.” I am obviously hesitant. Watching birds is my passion, but I can sense that finding love for this version of myself is a mystery. 

“Nothing disturbed, except maybe the birds.” A few of the swallows roosting above make their way to the pond, away from the talking humans. We both chuckle as they hop around on their little legs, pleased to be in a new spot and looking for food. 

“I swear I wasn’t looking at you. I only just saw you when I went around the tree.” I point to the oak we were both admiring, and he smiles brighter. 

“Well, that’s a shame, because I was totally looking at you.” He is soft–nervous? Delicate to say the least. He opens a page previous to the sketches I was looking at over his shoulder, to one of me, binoculars against my face looking into the sky. It’s truly a simple sketch, no form or depth, but meaningful. Profound. 

I am speechless once again.

June 12, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt 8

[inkyfreckles]

Here I am. The first freckle. The first universe. 

I stand, quietly bird watching. A set of very nice binoculars rest in either palm as I bring the lenses away from my eyes. There is a yellow finch in that oak across the pond, and a pull of energy begs of me to wander to that spot.

The sun is gorgeous, big and round and bright and warm. I feel alive here, standing in this park, absorbing these rays as though I am a plant in need of sustenance. Perhaps I am in need.

I make my way to the great oak, trailing my fingers gingerly along its bark as I pull out a camera to snap a quick photo. It reminds me so much of my childhood in this moment, the swing I made on my own tree swaying like a ghost in the breeze. I am relaxed. 

I bring the camera to my focus, having rest the binoculars back on my chest to prepare for the perfect photo shoot of nature. The oak was a wonderful subject, her branches and leaves gentle yet strong. She has stood the test of time in the center of this park. Should someone take her down one day, they would see the hundreds of rings hidden within her trunk. She is ancient–she has brought life and love to this spot for a century at least. 

I begin to wander more around the wide base of the trunk, admiring the small flowers that have made her their shared home. They live and thrive here together, such as life should be for us all. A misfortune of human condition, I sigh into the camera as it finds focus elsewhere.

There he is. I recognize him almost immediately, through time and space and soul and a deeper connection I do not yet know. He is just as soft here as he is sleeping in my arms in the world that we call our own, and I allow his energetic pull to bring me towards him.

He is like water, a fluid and ever moving entity. He is the shape of love, the form of light, a being of immense and unending purpose. My purpose, yes, as in this reality we do not yet know one another.

June 11, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt 7

[inkyfreckles]

I am here, within your beauty of life. 

The first freckle, a small, unassuming little guy. I cherish this moment before the plunge, my fingers so close now to their destination. Is this anxiousness I feel? The positive anxiety of a new experience, a new sensation. I get to share in this with you, my sleeping love. I get to explore every possibility, every singularity, every multiversal plane we exist upon together. 

It’s as though the world around me begins to melt into a painted oblivion the moment my skin reaches that little freckle. I watch the walls of our space ooze gently onto the ground. I feel the electricity of dream and reality mixing in a sudden cacophony of energy and life. I feel you sound asleep against my physical body as my astral self is transported into a new, vast horizon, into your subconscious? Perhaps–farther into our universes.

I care little for those realities where we do not find one another, and even if on this long and winding journey I stumble where I do not wish to go–I know your resting soul will encounter me in one way or another. What reality, I begin to wonder, will I trip into this first time? What reality will this small, unassuming freckle bring me to on the journey to start all journeys?

June 8, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt. 6

[inkyfreckles]

So I begin. I hold my fingertips close, not yet ready to delve into the long trek ahead of us. Will you even be aware of it happening, or will you stay soundly at peace in this slumber of yours? This vulnerable and delightful slumber, one I find myself always unable to separate my gaze from.

Maybe this was why all along. This strange pull I now feel towards you in this state of being–as though you’ve started emitting a kind of celestial energy. I feel the pull of my obsession over your very features, closer and closer to your heartbeat taking slow, deliberate beats between breaths. 

I sense this–draw–this looping perception of desire. I desire you, this vulnerability, I desire to know why I feel this powerful pull towards your freckles?

My fingertips rest hesitantly over the thumping of your neck, the skin so subtle, so very soft. You’re like a baby, and I will care for you and watch over you on this journey. I will keep you safe through this expedition. 

June 7, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt. 5

[inkyfreckles]

A picture is worth a thousand words, and the moment between time and space is worth a million.

I have painted each and every moment as best as I can within the silver strands of every threading of memory. Life will be long, as I can only hope, so spend so much of it sewing in new memories to hold. But these are just thoughts, feelings, emotions–of this place.

This place. This lonely existence we navigate on earth, to be found and kept, or to be lost and left. We always hope for the former.

You found me here, in this place. Like breathing the very air you gave me, you are nothing like those that persist. You persist simply to envelop me within your elegance, your light, your love. I hold onto you with each chance I get, to trail my hands along the things so precious and dear to me. Your defining features of kindness and empathy are dotted carefully–freckles amongst flesh, and here once more I find myself lost and also found.

June 6, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt. 4

[inkyfreckles]

We struggle with the deep complexities of what there is surrounding us at any given moment. Maybe there's a sunset we don't want to miss, a laugh we wish to hear once more; this tangible and ever breathing life we stumbled into by accident.

You were no mere accident, a form of light upon foggy plane, you float down like my ray of sun broken through the clouds. I could witness this state of being forever, knowing just beneath the surface, the soul swimming within ties itself to me as I to it.

I want to watch you here forever, in this middle ground of sleep and conscious--where I can hold onto you forever as you stay in peaceful rest.

You make this existence of futility and misery worth indulging. You brought me the stars on your skin; you brought me the universe.

June 6, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt 3.

[inkyfreckles]

There you sleep, again I make notice of the way your heart beats under your neck. I trace it gently, two fingertips so anxious and calm, the oxymoron of love. Butterflies of pure excitement, and paranoia of utter abandonment.

I’ve never had an inkling of doubt, a moment of thought that maybe you would even want to depart one day from my side. Never has there been a second of guessing that you’d attempt to divulge in all of this mortal plane and its offerings of flesh and pleasure without me as your muse, your divinity. When our souls first intertwined as they were always meant to, I painted you. Simple, true, soft love. A soft connection. A genuine intimacy shared between new lovers. I think back to that night often, about how I never stopped wishing to connect each dot upon that freckled, pale skin. 

Will I ever stop? Doubtful, I am a mist of dew across your back, each tantalizing pull of the brush displaying more of the multiverse that scrawls across your features. They’re messy, disjointed, of a multitude in varying hue and darkness and shape and size. I take in every new freckle with my fingers, experiencing each world within, waiting to be seen and witnessed. 

Thousands and thousands of lives across the great plane of multiversal law, we are connected and bound and found over and over and over again. As if the words of our lives together were predetermined and peppered amongst your complexion. Someone with two precise fingertips pinched us in the delicate cuisine that is the cosmos and sprinkled our stars like seasonings across your surface. 

This surface, this surface of soft and smoothness. A surface I devour like the grand design made you to be, a dish of significant flavor and aroma. How, I ask once again, how could I not wish to consume that with which is mortal desire? How am I to deny myself the simple pleasures of your aesthetic–your whole being? 

How? 

I look upon that slumber once more, again and again I say–again and again I write. 

You are art to be engulfed within. You are my art. You are my muse. You are each and every destination, every story, every word and sentence and paragraph. 

May these words enlighten us to the insanity of the universe.

June 5, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt. 2

[inkyfreckles]

Your body, our souls, we have always been in this stroke of the brush. My love, your freckles sing with each version of us. There is peace between the fragments of your skin, the comfort of drawing constellations amongst your millions of stars. A singularity of realization that my universe begins and ends with each new freckle scattering the Milky Way across your canvas. Roll over, again restless slumber, I find my eyes open on your features. How? I no longer ask why, my struggles and paramount of trials are mine to navigate. I know why, I must learn. I have learned. I am learning. I will continue to learn until my bones rest. True rest. I no longer ask why. Why anything, really? How? This peaceful verse of love I have somehow captured out of the sky, such the way a swan song dispatches upon adieu. You are my everlasting and careful purpose, and should you part this existence from me sooner than my heart and own body are ready, even then will I prosper with the love I have been given--as such to be given. How, instead answer I will never find, how have I taken such grace and kept it close and warm at my side? A life of struggles. Of trials. Of hardships. True love. There--my how. The hopeless romantic in search of an endless dream, found and seeded and watered and grown. How not instead I answer myself, could I not keep such a love? How not, through struggles and trials and lessons learned would one--could one ignore the blatant fact that love is my energy, and love I will cradle until it wants me no longer. Then, a love I will continue to bloom with each coming season, because real love leaves you brimming. A love that looks back over the shoulder to watch you smile and share in their joy--their happiness. I wake to your freckles scattered like dreams, worlds upon worlds hidden within the space of your vast and tangible universe. I watch your chest rise and fall in slumber; I watch your hands rest over your torso and onto my skin, touching always a necessity even when subconscious. It is here I am vulnerable in your vulnerability--it is here I envision all variations--all varieties of our linked possibility.

All potentials, the beautiful journey I get to experience with you over and over and over again. In this lifetime, and in each vast and diverse multiversal plane of existence, I will find you, I will find us, and I will weave the intricate details of our lives outside of this one. I will delve into the grand and unending literature of our love, an endless stream of knowledge beyond this realm.

I will delight in this shattered sunlight with you, and when the time comes, dive into each new freckle of our shared and engulfing multiverse. I will spin the stories that must be told.

For to have caught the affection of a writer, a seer of worlds and narratives, you will live forever in the heart of these words, the true heart of my soul.

June 4, 2025 - Every Freckle - Pt 1