not a traveller’s map

‘I miss you.’ he said. ‘I miss you too.’ she replied. ‘Some days. But then I remember how you wrapped your veins around my heart, softly choking it, restricting the blood supply to the rest of my body. You crawled out of my own heart, tripping over my tendons and nestling in my bloodstream, treating my body as an old and forgotten map, crumpled and smudged.

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