she can be remembered. this is an importance. there is an importance for more. for finding. for finding out more. take that thread that is poking out from her dress. pull on it and see her unfold. see the fabric slowly make its way down her body. watch as you unravel her and watch as she begins to cry. tears. free flowing salty water that you have given birth to within her. she is thankful. she is scared. plants. it is you that have planted the seed of hope inside the withering garden of her body. of her soul. it is you that have started to scrape away the rot that had been growing for quite some time. black rot. rot growing over her fleshy parts. her beautiful flowers. preventing them from knowing light. she stands there naked. bare. void of all feeling. filled with emotion to the brim. this is the paradox of their relationship. at once everything that is taken away can be replaced she feels this can be replaced. goosebumps begin to cover her pale thighs. her body is fighting against her she so desperately wants to take up less space yet the lust in her makes her skin grow. she aches. her pulse quickens at a relative pace to the closeness of you. lover. her lover. one step closer heartbeat. two steps closer she is biting her lip attempting to slow down the pace at which this *** is unfolding. this is ***. we are the lost echoes in a tunnel. bouncing sound off of each other we are balanced. one bite leads to the next and you are kneeling at the goosebumps. lapping up their cold and pushing them back inside. this is ***.