Prolonged

Moths battered themselves senseless against blue kitchen bulbs. The sheets smelled faintly of rainwater left too long in metal containers. Somewhere beyond the walls, men laughed too loudly at something cruel and ordinary. Tenderness became repetitive after enough years spent explaining existence to strangers. Hands still wandered. Mouths still opened. The heart still carried out its obedient little mechanics beneath the ribs. At some point love became less fire and more maintenance. Like cleaning blood from a bird’s feathers after it struck glass for the third time that season. Intimacy born from prolonged exposure to hostility. A closeness so compressed it eventually loses heat. Black tulips. Silver pollen. Pink smoke collecting low over wet grass. The body continues despite humiliation. Such a strange habit. And still, sometimes, even while skin rested against skin, there remained the feeling of standing very far apart, watching each other through aquarium glass, too tired to bridge the distance, too loyal to leave. Mizuyōkaii, 2026 Dimensions: 5376x7680