Like most sensitive souls, you already know you’re sensitive.
You soak up others’ moods and desires like a sponge.
You absorb sensation the way a paintbrush grasps each color it touches on a palette.
The ethereal beauty of a dandelion, the shift of a season, the climax of a song,
or a certain stirring scent can evoke such wonder
it’ll behave as your very breath itself,
moving through cells as fuel does to fire and wind does to waves.