It wasnt a mind memory, but a heart memory.
When you touched my chest, you sunk through all of me.
It felt like the memory ricocheted back into forgotten realms, echoed into lost dimensions. Like catching the tail end of a prophetic dream. I don’t really “trust the science” but I could feel the atoms between us melding, their opposite forms touching- even when they are far apart. Revolving, dancing, dividing and intertwining in invisible waves.
Now I know you exist, I don’t think I’ll recover. You made your bed and mine sat empty. Wild things don’t know patience, and most days I am more wolf than woman.
But I waited, when it was not my nature. I ached with psychic amputation, mobilized a century long coma. I delved into mysteries and propelled myself into spiritual speculation. Thrashing like a fire eating itself. Stuck like a sick dog, killing time by a window that never passed.
This grief is pranging me open. Some parts belong to my dad, some belong to my country, but most is ancient love lost. It’s pranging me open, and I let it because it keeps me in my heart.