shattering
ovenbird Our bodies are broken–mine playing host to rapidly replicating viruses as yet unknown to science, yours torn apart at the shoulder by some beast that is all claws and no compassion. I struggle to take a breath, you struggle to sit upright, we both close our eyes as if pain is something you see, and can be eliminated with darkness. The hospital beds we occupy are only a foot apart but neither of us has the strength to traverse the small distance between them. And yet I can reach out my hand and you can reach out yours into that void between the private realms of our shattering. We find each other’s fingers and let them entwine. There is no comfort greater than this–your hand finding mine and my hand finding yours when we both thought there was nothing left in this world but suffering. 250721
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