Burrowed.

I miss the complexities of you.

When I reminisce on us, I think of you with furrowed brows.

That’s when I loved you the most…

Those moments when you’d shed your mouth of forced smiles and your eyes would deepen into liquid pools.

Oh how I wanted to jump into your depths and swim around in your unconstraint!

I wanted to saunter into the conclaves of your equilibrium, into your crooked places.

To wander into nooks devoid of light, your rooms unkempt and untouched.

My every fiber wanted to open locked doors.

To trespass.

I wanted to invade you.

My intrusion wasn’t easy.

I wasn’t easy.

I was unrelenting, and clumsy.

I knew I’d journeyed into what no one else had, the thrill of it!

Bumped against the raw, now exposed, sensitive to touch.

I tinkered with the bits that you’d confined to live in the darkness.

That’s where I found you.

And in those hallowed halls, I reverberated your walls with the echoes of my laughter.

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