(no subject)

I have to remind myself what it feels like to be loved that way. If I remember it vividly, I would never mistake pyrite for the genuine article. It's been a very long time. I have to remind myself. It was nothing that had to be stretched for. And once the question was broached, it was out there in the open. A warmth I could bask in. An open sky that supported me. I leaped with no thought of ever falling.

It's been so long.

If I see a bit of sky through the window, I think I'm there again. If I've been outside so long my cheek is wind-bitten, when I get a bit of shelter I feel the hot sting of my own blood...and think soon I may bask. So I have to strain, to filter through all my memories and remember: this is not that. Then is not now.