“sometimes broken men with crooked fingers will touch you and try to convince you that you are bruised. they will leave you on your knees armed with dust pan and brush sweeping charred remains of your flesh, making careful sure not to accidentally touch them, as they were now sordid and impure. they will tell you that although they would once cross proverbial rivers and dot a lifetime of neglected i’s, to touch you, you were now unlovable, undesirable and you will lick your tears with contempt. fear not, the jaded man with scarred hands leaves scars on your mind if you let him, and never on your body that he touched like a poison. only if you let him, darling.”


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