an epistolary labyrinth of absences.
Phoenixflare Week || Day 4: Touch-Starved (pt ii)
(long distance) Phoenixflare + So We Must Meet Apart
"In this light, two violinists faced each other—a man and a woman. The woman had her back to me. Their bows were like warped mirror images, one stretching out and up as the other pushed down and in, the two lines moving in relation. And in this manner, they made not the same music but an overlapping.
I began to wonder in that moment (and I still wonder now) why my lips twitch at each discordant twoness. Is it joy? A grimace? Recognition?"
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