That feeling which tiptoes up your rib cage – rib by rib, one by one – then finally sneaks under and buries itself in your heart. Trapped.
Impossible to reach with your fingers. Impossible to pull out. Impossible to ignore.
Fluttering with fragility. It got itself in so it can get itself out again, surely. Sneak out as easily as it snuck in.
It just doesn’t want to. And you don’t want it to either.