corner bespeckled There sits a curious girl- who doesn't even bother to glance up at an intruder's presence. She stays in her cold corner, tracing her fingers across the ground, searching in her dusty figures that only thing that brings her comfort now. She doesn't even care to acknowledge the intrusion. She doesn't even bother looking up. 021212 ... Cicero In the corner, The backseat too, I steer and command How I thought of you. 030319 ... tender_square the change in him was marked. there was a gradual opening, a softening. he was quick to joke and quicker to laughter, a deep rumble of joy from his belly, not some superficial “ha” tacked on as an afterthought anymore. he was reaching toward her and for her. at night, as she sat at her vanity applying cold cream to her face, his frame blocked the light while his hands tickled every piece of her he touched. he kissed her with intention now. “i don’t have bad days,” he said once. “i have a period of bad years.” he was orbiting back into her gravitational pull. she didn’t understand how alone she’d been until he reminded her of how affection used to flow so easily between them. she didn’t realize how she’d made her needs inconspicuous in sacrifice to his own. when he was in his blue periods, he was so nostalgic for the past and so anxious about the future that he missed the present entirely, missed her standing before him while she waited, soundlessly, to be noticed. “i know i need to allow for the possibility that things could improve between us,” she’d told her mother. but she didn’t really believe it; she was placating her just like she did him, offering assurances that nothing was definitive about them when her heart said otherwise. “you’re so good,” he kept cooing to her. he didn’t know the half of it. 220306 what's it to you? who go blather from