Perforations
A flash piece about intentions and bodies, fragile as paper
My intro for “Perforations”:
We connected because our lives were blank, crisp card stock. Heaving for punctures into the skin and then soul. A notification from you brought a satisfying unzipping within me like guided paper ripping.
Our desires sparked.
Our schedules synced.
Our distance evaporated.
Score and fold and touch corners.
When everything aligned, we glued ourselves together. A tackiness we craved. You were very good at folding and unfolding me. Sometimes delicately as if I was precious origami. Other times leaving me ragged and creased in surrender. Like a rambunctious child on their fifth perfect paper airplane attempt.
But when you fold and unfold a perforated line back and forth, the integrity of that bond weakens until it is tethered by a mere smidge of woven paper fiber, dangling in accelerated expiration.
Punch cards eventually fill up.
Paper dolls end up in the trash.
Post-it notes lose their adhesive and curl.
Delicate and prone to limited use. We knew what we chose to ignore.
We were never fully attached, never truly belonging intact. Our weak grasp created air holes with just enough space to pierce our divide and escape our normal lives. Separation, always inevitable.
Both clinging to the vice of serrated emotions.
Both wondering why the other couldn’t hold on for just a bit longer.
In what ways do we deliciously let ourselves be creased? What makes a fold good for us? When do we know when a fold is becoming a perforation in our lives? Would love to hear from you. ❤️
The texture and viscera is feeling and steely. Sharp and earnest. As soft as it is stolid. That something as strong and frail as a heart is a carried a loft in something as porous as our skin.
Great piece!