mahagoni.

They told you touch was foreplay but you were just trying to exist like a cat with trauma. You didn’t want to be seduced. You wanted to be leaned on like a couch you trust. You weren’t tracing their palm to flirt. You were trying to remember what safety felt like before the feed made you flinch at affection. Physical touch isn’t a prelude. It’s a password. For a nervous system that’s tired of war. Sometimes love is just putting your legs on someone because the floor feels too far away today. And if he tucks your feet under his thigh without making it weird marry him. Not because he’s the one. Because he didn’t make healing feel like a transaction.