9 months ago. Friday, March 28, 2025 at 4:34 AM
“I think it’s the worst for my hands. They exist with the sensory knowledge that they are without your shapes, that they open and close lacking your greedy skin. They miss you cuttingly. The memory of your outline is carved into my palms. This isn’t the longing ache that lovelorn people talk about, this is no low throb. I hurt for you. My hands hurt from being empty of you.”
— Verge Mail