May dandelion embroidery watch over you as you sleep.
It's nostalgic for me to speak in such a wishful language. It's foreign to you - this strange concept of peace and an unconditional, untethered intimacy where you no longer have to flinch at one's unpredictable movement.
Where was it while you grew? The trust? Where was it as you were forced to reconsider everything that is not yourself? And why now, as you sleep vulnerable, do you flinch at my touch?