Wrapped in Presence.
They were so blue I panicked.
Eyes twirling, searching for words —
but my mouth, my mouth was threaded shut,
stitched in the most intricate red threadwork,
so delicate you could almost admire it.
They were so blue I panicked.
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When he touched my hand, the nerves misfired —
electric, merciless —
my fingers trembling as if my body had been caught in a lie.
“Help me out,” I mumbled through silk and thread,
voice snagging on its own restraint.
If I bleed, let it be beautiful.
If I unravel, let it set me free.
They were so blue I panicked.
The skin, drenched —
not just with heat, but urgency.
Fear and euphoria braided together.
A drop sliding down the center of my back,
slow, deliberate, impossible to ignore —
like the moment itself refusing to disappear.
