Talk.

What if I just wanted the warm feeling of your intuitive brain wrapping my thoughts with reason?

What if it wasn’t my hormones or the bored tones of my voice speaking to itself, that landed me in your inbox. Is that not possible?

Because I am man and time has taught you better, is it not plausible?

I know I haven’t hurt as much as I’ve planted hurt, including in you;
as much of it as you were never worth.

But I didn’t know these feelings were still being torched.

What if I expected dialog like the type we had before?

What if the company of authenticity is all I was looking for?

What if I just sought out conversation?

I’ll let the vacancy answer all my questions.

Yours,
V.
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