The heart only grows fonder. I liked her. Enough to loosen the ropes and let her go. But like always, a week after and every breath she takes feels burdensome. A week of borrowed air owed to me. And the only way to pay me is to be smothered in all of her essence. To be acquainted with her again, with every blemish and every little imperfection: Like the wine spill of a birthmark on the dip of her back or the freckles spirited across her face. She belonged to me. And without her I will wilt away in life’s trivialities. Poisoned by the mediocrity of humanity. I need her now to tip the scale. And she will be mine again soon. As where the others. This time and never again