Remember that time you were playing with my hair and you said you wish you could see all that pain I’m carrying around and I said would you like to? Then, you popped the hood of my skull like your 1994 Geo Prizm. You ran your thumb over all the calluses in my hippocampus. Memories dancing like powerless pixies in my vision. We laughed about how small my motor cortex is and how it explains how clumsy I am. When you saw the spot where the wrinkles made a frowny face and said that must be where all the sorrow is stored. Your fingers interlaced in the grooves of my brain. When you saw the spots that needed exfoliation, you didn’t grab your pumice stone. You kissed them gently and thanked them for being a part of me. You held me and I wept and you wept.
Nick Maassen probably has weird calluses in his brain like he does on his hands. You can find esoteric jokes on his Bluesky: @nickmaassen.bsky.social
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