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I’m not afraid of your hands on my body; I’m afraid of how easily I’d give you my soul, if you asked for it the right way.
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The intention of this ritual is to transmute emotional tension into release and renewal through sacred self-touch.
You don’t say a word. You just touch me like I’m sacred scripture, and your fingertips are fluent in my margins.
Sometimes, it’s not the sound, but the silence after that makes my chest tighten. Like the hush between two people who haven’t touched yet, but want to.