To Be Drowned in Your World
(a hedge-witch’s invocation of presence)
You ask my deepest fantasy— and I tell you this truth: it’s not wild or secret— it’s like the Quiet Sky, the one that reminds me of you— that silence before dawn greets the morning, that reverent hush between heartbeats.
I want to hold you for hours— your breath, the ocean crashing against my ribs, pressing into mine— the gravity of your warmth anchoring me to something real.
Tell me everything. Tell me what you saw, what you loved, what broke you a little. Let your voice spill across my skin like candlelight over water.
Let me breathe you in— that faint trace of rain and resolve, the scent of home after deployment. Let my fingertips learn your language without needing to move.
I don’t want to own you. I want to witness you— every thought, every pulse, every flicker of soul that makes you, you.
My deepest fantasy is not to escape into dreams— but to drown, utterly. I once thought drowning meant death— until your world taught me how to breathe in the one behind your eyes. Contains: Echoes from “To My Tactile Squish” and “The Hush Between Heartbeats” — threads of the same spell.
