He wondered at my mind,
chewed noisily on my thoughts,
found himself in my perception, and
cherished the questions in my mouth.
And then he stopped.
He admired my red hair,
was pulled in on my collar bone,
entangled in my humor, and
satisfied on my arms and hips.
And then, he stopped.
It’s an interesting thing to feel seen—like a particle that doesn’t exist until observed. I didn’t feel like I needed to be seen until he arrived…
I’ll be alright. The truth is, I don’t need to be seen at all, in order to exist.
But right now, it feels like disappearing slowly, in pieces. Very unlike a particle that never existed because it was unobserved.