'To Absolve'

For the longest time, Inertia was talking and I was listening. Inertia was pointing to the past, holding my hand like a well-meaning friend as I recounted to myself everything that had ever been misplaced, mismatched or discarded.

Inertia giving my hands sclerosis when I failed to listen so that I could not touch and find comfort in anything new. Inertia only stopping when I said sorry, because it was our safe word. Inertia stroking my brow, combing back my sweat-tinged hair as I laid in the reeds. Inertia expecting nothing from me, which she gets in full, every time.

She only gets younger, becomes more beautiful. Sometimes when she kisses me I see hearts and hooks and I can't help but feel alone, in spite of the company.

Once she sang to me as I crossed the sea: "In truth I am everywhere, tipping your scales of recognition with illusions of familiarity and leaving when you discover that those places are hiding places. Everywhere being always and always being on the verge of something, anything more than this."

For the longest time, she made me forget that this atrophying body is also a body, filled with light. But I understand.