that open 8%
at first, i was 92% closed to your sweet affections and the soft hands
you announced them with. i was always moving, downstream like
fresh-water. i always had someone else waiting. it seemed to only
make you want me more. and i’m not sure how, but you managed
to wedge your foot firmly in that open 8% of my door, and how i wish
i could take back that desire i felt for you, because it was real, even
if the pillars it stood upon turned out to be quicksand. this time, i am
leaving nothing to chance.
