Loving in the collapse
Just like that. Breath mingling. Skin warmed against skin while the sky falls. The systems are breaking, the earth groans, and still we touch. They told us collapse means only ending, but we make it an opening.
We turn tenderness into rebellion. We make love like it’s medicine. We let desire stitch the places empire split apart. Our pleasure becomes sanctuary, our bodies the altar where survival and softness meet.
We keep consent holy, sharper than any boundary they ever drew for us. We carry oil, silk, honey, prayer. We use them to remind ourselves that even as the world unravels, freedom begins in the body, and intimacy is how we stay alive.
If the ruin slips between us, it is not a failure of our love. Beloved, come. Rest your head against my chest. Let your tears and my heartbeat keep time together. Place your weight in my arms and I will meet you with mine.
Breathe like the earth is remaking herself through us. Kiss me like there are no chains left to bind us. May we love like collapse is not the end, but the fire that brings us home to each other.