Field Notes ▪︎ Prose (2)

23. Set a fire; let him stand behind me

and sometimes more than I manage to admit I envision him standing behind me so close that he can prop his mulling chin on my shoulder blades, feeling the embers I carried on the scalds of me unkindly. Though without telling he does grasp me to an enveloping proximity that makes me wonder about the extremities of my own territory, my brutish ends where my flesh borders meet his to wound him...yet I couldn't stifle him no matter what I did; his largesse in offering me softness without any counterpart intentions had a way in snaring the barbed intimacy I kept neglected in solitary seclusion just by standing behind me and saying...let me in I wanna burn too

27/5/2023