#TATWIEL || one

dear woman 1,

​sometimes when i walk into the grocery store, i imitate your posture. there is something about a straight back, slightly rigid limbs, skin careful not to touch the insides of clothes, an aware glance that says: i know what i am here for. in my case, it’s milk. or broccoli. a hunk of salami, maybe. in your case, it’s to keep the rest of us safe, but i like the way it feels when my feet are on the ground.
 
i think he’s your soulmate. i think you know it. i think you want him so bad it makes you sick. your eyes are your tell. your face has always been soft. i think you are so afraid, and i wonder if whether you let your stomach sag every once in a while, you might have flickers of what it’s like to let go. to breathe. even hot air, even smoke.
 
there is an art to avoiding the world too, you know. there are benefits to having an unaware glance. a lot gets in that way. a lot sneaks by. sometimes death, but sometimes love.
 
i wonder if slouching every once-in-a-while might smother whatever gave you such a straight spine. not forever, just for a beat. you might damage your backbone, but only marginally, and anyway, don’t you think it’s necessary to living? damage?
 
if you ask me, which you never will, we have no idea how something really works until it’s broken. i also think it’s futile to try and stay intact all the time. we’re not really together until we’ve been in pieces, and you need a break.
 
love, n. 

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