lately

there is a person in a corner of a room. which corner, which room, which person. the person has another person holding their shoulders from behind. the skin of the shoulders feels the gentle pressure of the fingers, the slight warmth, the pleasure the fingers feel as they graze the smooth skin fuzz. the person in the corner of the room screams in silence. the hands on the person's shoulders squeeze sympathetic. the shoulders tense up. there are more things feeling in this room than just two people. the shoulders feel, the fingers feel, the head feels, the eyes feels. the person is shut down tightly inside themselves. tight as a ball of knitting wool. waiting to be unspun. hoping the cat won't catch it and tangle it all up.