my little pantheon

intimacy is not a passive comfort, but a chosen surrender. to place the weapon directly into their hands, to feel the tip of the arrow resting against your own beating heart, and to lean back anyway, trusting that their balance will hold yours. i can never choose which one i am; the one holding the bow, carrying the weight of the frame and absorbing the strain, or the one holding the arrow, carrying the burden of the danger and the weight of the kill. but i know i'd never let go!