Reopened

Reopened Broken, this intimate space we’ve reopened and understood too soon and sober, held too dangerously and strangely close. Oh! It’s so over! Take us back through all those days we’ve raked over. Place the anger under, our orgasms aside, rely only on instincts. Touch. Smell. Wet, warm, welcoming. Imperfections can be as sexy as anything smooth or symmetrical. We wait in cluttered, dusty places: our sanctuaries, our homes. Where so few people are allowed to enter. Hiding where you sleep, is hiding who you are. But strangely, it’s what us humans seem to do.