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Clean teeth sink into
opened, wet
and drag colour across a pale canvas leaned against the wall

There is no other feeling quite like the first stroke.

Everything
is always leading up to the first interaction of two separate beings
A gentle collision of fixed ideas, experiences, and acceptance
bound by two separate perceptions of time

The first tic of time together is often overlooked, unnoticed

Until we retrace our steps, certain we lost something along the way

We never show up at the same place at the same time but we came together
And I want to feel it again
But there will be no other moment
no photocopy, no replay, no imitation
to capture the precise amount of chemistry released in that instant of friction

I would have to live my whole life again

You would, too
Without changing a thing; there are so many people we didn’t have the courage
to give this feeling to before we came together.
That’s what makes it so special.

That’s what makes you so unique.

You have a piece of me, I can’t give to anyone else the same.

Britta B.

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