update from sparkleup

writing/3/terrifying/engagement.md

@@ -64,4 +64,10 @@ There are, to be sure, issues. There are those in my life with whom I will not s
 As I explored these new versions of me, I ran into new deaths, too, new risks of death. I found the boundaries of these selves entangled in different ways with other people. Is my partner as one me still my partner as another? Yes. Mostly. Ish. And what of my plural partner? What of the ways in which we fell in love, that slow entangling of one of me and one of em, and that first day another instance of mine peeked out and...and I wasn't theirs, was I? Or perhaps I was. Mostly? Ish.
 
 And what of the amount of time spent living into those personalities? When I stopped living into one for a few days, then nearly two weeks, I found myself crying, found myself clutching at my bed for any sense of grounding against this half-sensed death — or potential for death, perhaps — of one part of me. What would happen if she died? What would happen if I no longer found connection there? Would I lose that forever? Would I lose the relationships that she had formed? And, supposing even that those relationships spanned partials, the particular peculiarities would fade, yes? Maybe. Ish?
-((Struggling against the loss of unity, and then struggling against a sense of the half-sensed loss of Slow Hours))
+
+> You, who descend with the thud  
+> only fruits know, falling, unripe,  
+> daily a hundred times from the tree  
+> of jointly built up motion (which, quicker than water,  
+> has spring, summer, and autumn in just a few  
+> minutes) — fall off and bump on the grave;\footnote{\cite[51]{duino}}