Place in fiction

I've never been indifferent to this place. Sometimes I've left it high from all that belief in fairy tales and miracles. Other days or nights I left it confused. Nostalgia has been part of the mix as well. I've arrived jumpy - but have never made the leap after all. (Wasn't my fault. The one standing there at the other side was only lending me his ears, not offering his embrace.)

Today I left in a state curiously like some kind of inflammation. Still to figure out what why how and - what for? Oh, I'm sensing an explanation, a possibility: the iron curtain that is my security blanket in matters of the chest was heated up back into my awareness. Two curves at another minimum distance. And everything I have ever filed under "so much like a sign" is popping up in the picture. The puzzle. That still has so many gaps.

Still, I need help. Because I firmly believe that we are meant to love one person, one heart, one mind, one soul. Distributing the warmth can only mean not being far enough on the developing scale or mistaking one kind of fire for another.

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