you slide beside me stroking my cheeks "i love the very texture f your skin, its so earthy"
you compliment me but it isn't the first time you have done it, you do it occasionally whenever you feel the need to seek my attention, "hmm, that's sweet of you. i wish you were this sweet when we made love in between sheets."
you notice your scar on my neck, its dark, trace it with your fingertips, i feel uneasy and lean away, " i can be quite gentle the way you'd like it. i would be gentle."
you can, you obviously you can be everything, anyone 'can' be anything but do they intend to be that anything or anyone; that's a different story "you can you can be everything but never are."
"everything at once, i need inspiration you cannot just push me there." you say
and i thought i was special, you know one of a kind "oh! so the spell has worn off i guess you don't find me enduring the way you used to before. I've become old, like those stacked newspapers in your study."
you let out a light laugh holding me closer yet i feel alienated you say "well, then we need to get rid of the old newspapers, recycle them and begin with new pages so i could write words erase the old ones and write new ones."
words, twisting words i am the writer and he word plays "do you still love me?"
"loving is twisting hateful insanity it tires you up yet you work tirelessly. i do love you but sometimes you leave me unfeeling, cold and incomplete."
"hmm, cause i have become old and stale. i have lost my charms..." the charms that left you spellbound each time you felt my words reaching to you, as if mending a broken bridge, you and me mending it with our words, nothing but words. and it wasn't always what came out of our mouths, no, these words we spoke to each other didn't had any sounds ......
TO BE CONTINUED
you compliment me but it isn't the first time you have done it, you do it occasionally whenever you feel the need to seek my attention, "hmm, that's sweet of you. i wish you were this sweet when we made love in between sheets."
you notice your scar on my neck, its dark, trace it with your fingertips, i feel uneasy and lean away, " i can be quite gentle the way you'd like it. i would be gentle."
you can, you obviously you can be everything, anyone 'can' be anything but do they intend to be that anything or anyone; that's a different story "you can you can be everything but never are."
"everything at once, i need inspiration you cannot just push me there." you say
and i thought i was special, you know one of a kind "oh! so the spell has worn off i guess you don't find me enduring the way you used to before. I've become old, like those stacked newspapers in your study."
you let out a light laugh holding me closer yet i feel alienated you say "well, then we need to get rid of the old newspapers, recycle them and begin with new pages so i could write words erase the old ones and write new ones."
words, twisting words i am the writer and he word plays "do you still love me?"
"loving is twisting hateful insanity it tires you up yet you work tirelessly. i do love you but sometimes you leave me unfeeling, cold and incomplete."
"hmm, cause i have become old and stale. i have lost my charms..." the charms that left you spellbound each time you felt my words reaching to you, as if mending a broken bridge, you and me mending it with our words, nothing but words. and it wasn't always what came out of our mouths, no, these words we spoke to each other didn't had any sounds ......
TO BE CONTINUED