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A Few Short Words

Dense Not Thick

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Solar

Acupuncture

Soundlessly, she clamps her teeth upon my shoulder and spells out sentiments with her tongue. I don’t need to make them out, I can feel the messages radiating like reiki through every single cell in me. I can sense the convulsions taking hold between pelvis and plexus, solar and cerebral, insular and encompassing. Decades of unnecessary knots declot and redistribute as undiluted energy. I apply my fingertips with delicate pressure to points of chakra and surreptitiously pass my sensations through her skin. Light and ethereal, she moans gently into me and the flow of ouroboros chi becomes spectacularly complete.

Matters

I feel her hand on my shoulder, incalculable aeons of stardust settling. You should be working, a whisper. ‘I was daydreaming about you,’ I say. Only the day? A solar echo. That seems restrictive. Her laughter spools out, universally intertwining light and sound, gravitational waves and electromagnetism. Every move she makes causes an affect. ‘I wish you were here,’ I say, finding myself laughing. It took so long to parse, with nothing but theory until I’d felt the physics. I reach through space to take our hand and her voice is mine, ‘Even when I’m not there—’ I’m here.

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