ignorance
I do not know how to dance with you: how to move my hands but not caress, hot to halt making love through layers of choreography, fabric and sweat. I am a relic, a glass curio of the past that wobbles but does not break when the world quakes and cracks around me. I am transparent. I am learning what it is like to have sex without love, but I have not learned to shield my heart from penetration.
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