“Wrapping” By Shakira Sison

Jane and Mia always touched each other. It wasn’t necessarily romantic or sensual, but it was some form of comforting contact, as if they needed each other for reassurance every few minutes, the way a talisman is rubbed for strength or good luck.

Mia had long arms that could wrap around Jane twice in an expert grip. They covered Jane’s entire body the way a boa would if it ate an elephant whole in a Saint-Exuperie fashion, but without the choke hold.

Jane enjoyed being entangled in Mia, bound by her limbs and secured by them the way a belt does for a body in a vehicle’s seat. Mia wrapped Jane like a present, collecting loose ends and covering exposed areas, enjoying all parts of the ritual – a blanket for paper and arms and legs like the bows that found each other’s ends and tied knots taut for safe measure.

It seemed maternal, this swaddling of an otherwise independent adult. Mia wrapped Jane so diligently as if her life dependent on it, because truth be told it really did. Each stroke and knot, each pull and grip – to Mia these were the physical manifestations of how Jane actually kept her together. In securing Jane, Mia allowed no space for things to rattle or seep through, between them but mostly within her, where things were often flying, fighting for air, waiting for their turn to be shown.

It was as comforting to the apparent comforter, as separate and different as they seemed, their touches were reminders to each other of what they needed, and who they needed when they stepped out into the world undone.

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A response to the creative exercise “Relationships”