(begin again)
After putting myself out there and finally being comfortable in nakedness, it seems almost apt that I'm being taken out of it like how it always is when one slips into one's comfort zone. Don't confused comfort with ? (can't think of a suitable word). I know it's for the better; we were both displaced; wrong place, wrong time. Not rules and regulations; if I love, I obey. Rewind it all, roll them back up and put the feelings into the right places and words. But you can't just take out one, without the other. And not the other, without another. For now, there's only little and much, black and white.
The paint has dried; start scraping.
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