my place of worship is the lines i drew in the sand. ever imperfect and impermanent, i drew them for me. and declined to divulge the bitter truth. that boundaries were wiped away. like the sea that lapped against those lines, by another i felt sweetly for.
it should be very simple for me to continue on without Her, as simple as breathing.however, i've forgotten how to breathe. forgotten what i feels like to hear the exhale.