One day someone will hold my body, reach intimate places, steal breaths from my throat and his cold barb-wired fingers will breach my silk-woven skin, leaving me to choke. I'm afraid I'm not sufficient enough to let his love crawl in me, sweeping dust away that no one has bothered to touch after all these years. Certainly he must not want to encounter a tornado that destructs everything that could save me. When he's done, there will not be a halo above his head. He precariously set my heart up for more disappointment. He took my trust with the lack of consent.
One day someone will hold me and reach intimate places, and I'm afraid I will not be sufficient enough.