ObservationAh, Syla, love will strip you bare one day.
Down to the marrow, the softest, most fragile part of you. In love, one is akin to a vulnerable baby. And that, my sweet, is the real trembling thing.
Not the fall, but being caught. Not the hunger, but the offering. Opening your hands, hoping someone nourishes you.
One day, you will stand before another. À nue. And see yourself reflected in their eyes. When the time comes, Syla, trust your nature, take your step.
As you will take your first one soon.0.1639%
