I want it simple.
A place.
A word.
And you.
I miss the purity of meaning. The lack of pretense.
My hand curled around your throat wasn’t a step towards something. It wasn’t a reminder.
It was just my hand at your throat feeling you breath. Swallow. Offer.
I miss the clarity of the moment. No mysteries to unwind, no conceits to shrug away.
You were here because it’s where you wanted to be.
And I took you in because I not-so-secretly loved your need for surrender.
I still do.