It's natural to be afraid, To run into the hollow fields of fear. The empty light, cold comforting, distills emotion like the funnel of an hourglass. Hibernate between the grains, and let their coarseness strip you of sensibility. Retreat. Run.
Or wait. Breathe, and speak. Pant, and sweat, grip hold, firmly, a conviction. Stay, don't run. Flood, bleed feeling.
Stare down an army of electric synapse and feel it shock the flesh in your cheeks. Grip your toes, and tense your weight.
It's natural to be afraid, but there is no retreat in love.