Chop — Slow and Strong

Asterion
Scuzzbucket
Published in
2 min readFeb 25, 2022
Photo by Chait Goli from Pexels

His slender fingers gained masterfully the honour
of reminding me how much I need this to end

Stronger, I take breaths in, stronger
when everything else relaxes, my chest bones tighten

These twenty-three minutes are exquisite. His speed
and smile, didactic. Dialectic. Dramatic.

I’m the dramatic one, I know, embarrassed of my own self
from my body to my friable nature. A brittle mind, I guess.

Nine minutes in and I’m reminded of the turbulent times in which I wrote gently about lucky skin talismans. A voracious love ours, devouring everything

My dear man, my dear woman on the bed, of me is left only drama;
your eyes, your eyes, could drive me to better places

My mother, driving me to where the seaside is lower than the sea
rocks and pebbles , rendering strident waves taciturn. Silence.

The sun, silence. But here the music, and I hear the music

I’m grown up!

I’ve grown up!

I’m… not ready to end, not ready to continue. We can’t live — like this — with or without me.

Photo by Ekaterina Kobzareva from Pexels

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