for those who wander, wonder & define life on their own terms

Still She Loves


Photo credit to Wikipedia.
Photo c/o Wikipedia.

She knows.  She listens to time that he finds

so fascinating.  The tick and tock scream the

passing of every second.  His moments – devious, present, orgasmic and full;

Hers –     a……slow……..dragging……through…..hell –

a red light when you’re late for a job where you’ve already been

written up for tardiness.

In the space of her 4th chakra, there is a chamber

that echoes the pain and knows that his 2nd chakra

is oblivious right now, wrapped up like it is in

his pleasure.  She smells the leather of her sofa death,

imagines his post-coital calm as he sleeps

in another dimension, and she lies

torturously awake.  Yesterday seemed

safe and free…tethered to the earth by magic

thread, so that they could explore without being lost in the

space-time continuum.  Exploring the universe works only if you

can find your way home, or don’t care

about drifting where you might not be found.

Still, she loves.

And worries whether or not the magic tether still holds her

or has freed itself from the mooring.

Still, she loves.

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