Lately it feels like I’ve been unearthing
Tiny pieces of myself, swallowed and forgotten
Or hidden deep in my skin.
They push at me like shrapnel
Fragmented memories and
the way my name sounds in your throat.
Something long dormant
Eroding carefully crafted callouses.
The shards of ourselves left behind,
Traces of each other, small impacts.
I wonder what parts of me you kept,
What bits of us remain intact.
It feels different this time
Somehow sharper around all my worn edges.