Waltzing with a figure who wore her heart on a sleeve, her fingertips touching the materials of ex partners drenched in mud: patriarchy, *** stereotypes; freeing herself through creativity and openness to inwards.

Point of reference: a former ex lover and best friend who dealt (possibly still does) with severe depression, drowning in its effects, self-hatred, to which a plot twist further fuels her state: the awareness and knowledge that she was supposed to be aborted; our bond being briefly described as co-dependency; with me putting her above my needs; and the third person being the authentic me, cutting through the illusions.

Dedication: to a minor crush who happens to be a Taurus (hence reference to venusian); and hope to have been mutual interest or at least curiosity; using him as a muse.

Swimming in a loop of self-betrayal, overextending loyalty to a running dune, succumbing to its heaviness, her own depleted self, bathed in depression, neglect, scars.

An imagery where my insecurity (minor acne) would be treated softly by a former blue-eyed love interest; fragile for not controlling the insides of my skin, hoping for his sight to dig deeper, towards my soul; although loosely connected, I yearned for his communication when other imperfections rose to our derma, immediate reaction of betrayal on his side, and overall unsaid words bathed in our distance and brisk ending of friendship (may I be allowed to call it so; if not, then acquaintance).

I wrote this intuitively based on picturing wood floor bending and being transmitted within its texture, following a sense of belonging tightly, suffocatingly, needing so to understand why my nature did not seek to be affiliated to anything but myself and my creation.