The Water Cure

by Sophie Mackintosh

Imagining them gone makes the edges of my love sharper.

The body is the purest sort of alarm. If something feels wrong, it probably is.

Refrain of the man, universal: This is not my fault! See also: I absolve myself of responsibility. And: I never said that. You can’t take the actions of my body as words.

Sudden love, when gifted to a habitually unloved person, can induce nausea. It can become a thing you would claw and debase yourself for. It is necessary to wean yourself on to it, small portions.