(no subject)
She briskly runs a hand up past my eyeline, "don't part your hair like that, you look like a geek."
"But, I am a geek."
"No you aren't," she lightly chides but she does not punctuate it with an additional hair tussle as Heather would have. She can't allow herself to breach that barrier.
I am glad, because though I ache to be touched with that kind of intimacy once more, I want it to be with new rituals and signs performed among those cairns I leave there, out of reverence, for the dead.
"But, I am a geek."
"No you aren't," she lightly chides but she does not punctuate it with an additional hair tussle as Heather would have. She can't allow herself to breach that barrier.
I am glad, because though I ache to be touched with that kind of intimacy once more, I want it to be with new rituals and signs performed among those cairns I leave there, out of reverence, for the dead.