She appears again in the flicker,
condensing like moisture on glass
until she looks almost human.
Her skin hums with distortion,
several faces try to line up into one.
When she steps towards me,
the floor dents beneath her feet
as if she carried everything I dropped
growing up.
I don’t remember walking,
but suddenly I’m close enough
to feel the heat radiating off her,
like she’s been plugged in too long.
She lifts a hand to my chest
and her fingers slip in like water
finding a crack.
I don’t bleed.
I unravel.
Thin strands of me stretch out
like magnetic tape around her wrists.
Inside me, things move
slow, curious, unnamed.
She reaches deeper inside me
and finds the old version of myself.
It recognises her, not me.