how is the past sufficient in the bludgeoning of the human bones? one cannot truly understand the tendrils stretching out from 10 years ago, or the taste of the pomegranate 8 years ago. would numbers ever add up to my heart breaking and its echo reaching you from histories away? i keep you in my pocket to use — like a compass magnetically drawn to a direction suffused by the past. honey, this life is inevitable, and i shall meet you at the end of a very dim tunnel where i shall deluge you with a feverish and sweet love! hold my hands and kneel before the Lord — ask Him to keep us at bay while I acquiesce in a past wholly insufficient to the chambers rocking us against the present. you there, i here, is a scenery the historians are entirely familiar with. we are intrepid beings, and i shatter history with a soft kiss.
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Thea Abdullah (any pronouns) resides in the Philippines as a miserable fan of Italian author Elena Ferrante.