Okay, overboard, overdrive is really the same thing.

I know I went a little blog-crazy last night.  But don’t you sometimes feel just… brain-explosion?

And then silence?

That’s kind of how I feel right now.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It balances on a butterfly thin rope exactly at the centre of the space between us,
it bathes the periphery of our eyes and we don’t want to look directly
at the flame.

It is so hard to keep my hand still, brushing against the side of my right thigh
when it knows the danger of reaching forward but can’t help
the need to touch.

Our backs weaken and sweat starts to condense on our foreheads, like thinking
is a physical process of the pain we will endure if we try to move
forward together.

So little we can do about the pressure, such intense silence, the concentration
from not saying anything about anything is
killing us.

The knit ball of worry stuck under my ribcage and weaseled between my stomach
and seemingly, my heart, is curling around arteries and my hands
are turning blue.

It becomes unbearable to not be in your presence when so near – the backs of my
knees push forward until I am kneeling before you, asking you forgiveness
for what you have done.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Ciao. Arina.

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