Sure it burns, but so do embers, Roman candles and other superficial pains.
Merely a skinned brain knee.
Seeking friction. Yet surprised upon finding that sought. Defamiliatization appears as though thru the lens of new prescription lenses.
What once was adequate is now questionably so.
Who is the knower and how can they confidently say so?
Fall colors. Decay and regrowth before winter.
Move slow but too slow lest you freeze.
I’m she, whose warmth, flesh, touch, and wetness is pondered.
Who cares and or can caress.
Passion in the soul. With that what do I do?
I’ve heard you should not share such things, but fears have done nothing and everything for me. So I share.
In the face of uncertainty or fear, aye say
I cannot believe you because I refuse to go against myself.
I submit: aye am love. I am written. Tolle lege.
Anon, anon. Says Helen Aestelle.