Be forthcoming with your adoration. Inside, cloistered, she loses her potency.
We all contort ourselves in divergent ways in the face of command. We all find ourselves somehow covered - in dust or blood from the torque as we lose illusory control. You, a molecule, and me, a collection of our worst yesterdays. The ones that we weren’t ourselves but perhaps we were the most each other. Those days, longer on the tooth, the ones whose stagnant echo lingers - or had never existed at all. Those days, a collection of fears we conjured long ago who grew to be beasts in the danceless moonless night. Beasts who fed on us but we ate them too, knowingly. Emerging hollow, we became used to their sticky warm bodies, deciding we’d rather stay warm and afraid than be cold and courageous.
< sometimes fear is a toasty blanket >