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Day after day,

Year after year,

She goes to him.

Day after day,

Year after year,

He stays where he is.

Whoever he was before,

That is now gone,

Forgotten long ago.

How can he be anything but an oblivious dreamer

Enslaved by her passions?

Forever, a sign of her obsession become reality.

His body and face are as lovely as ever.

But they always were.

As for his mind,

I wonder what he thinks.

I wonder too if she ever knew his thoughts.

Did they ever matter to her?

Did she ever see beyond his looks

When she went…


Her tears soak into me as she cries out with grief and anger while pain from The life she had put so much into crumbles away from her hands like threads Unraveling as her abandonment sinks in. He had tied himself to her, a part of Her life for so long, that she never thought that he would not be.

I am with her, a solid presence against her cheek as she decides if she wants To find out what is in this new life,
If she even wants to open that door.

She knows how hard it is to…


I wonder if she missed me when she went away.
She was there, laughing and smiling.
Then, he came
And she was gone.
She went away with him,

But she never came back.

I waited for her.

Everyone searched and wondered what had happened.

Her mother was heart broken.

But she was gone.

She was with him.

I wonder if she misses me.

I wonder if she will ever return.


You knew things would be different.

You knew after you gave him to me,

That nothing would be the same.

Tell me.

Do you remember how I felt against your fingers?

Did I burn when your skin touched me?

Did you cry when he was inside of me?

You knew what you were getting into.

But you held on.

You held on to him.

He was yours, after all.

But why cry when you knew you were the one

Who left him with a weak spot

While I made him strong?

Of course, he was your weak spot.

That is…


I held onto her

Even though it could not last.

I held on as she moved

Her skin brushing me over and over,

Writhing and undulating like the waves

That surrounded us both.

No, I couldn’t keep her.

We knew my hold on her had to be temporary.

Such a lovely woman was destined for a hero

Or a monster.

Or both.

But not for me.

I could only hold her for a little while.

Yet, I can still feel her

Chained to me

Rising on her toes,

Struggling against the bonds

While her skin brushed her back against me

As she tried to shelter herself in me

Even as she squirmed to free herself.

And still, I stand.

I was temporary to her

But I know her ties to me

Will outlast us both.


He chose her.

There is little doubt of that.

But did she choose him as well?

Did she want him to come?

Did she want me to be gone?

I know that I kept her close.

Enclosing her.

Entrapping her?

Did they both want me gone?

To be completely free of me?

Or had they both come to me

Seeking shelter, comfort, warmth and love.

Her, seeking my familiarity and finding solace there.

Him, seeking something novel and new, besotted with that.

Did she choose him?

Or did she choose us both?

Coming together,

As I surrounded them both

As they both were inside of me.

They were both there,

Filling each other

And filling me as well.

Was that what they chose?

Or were they simply choosing

Not to be alone?


Echo and Narcissus

I wait for the dark to come, so I can stop feeling his eyes touching me.

He is not really seeing me though.

Only one person matters to him.

And all he can see is himself.

His world has been reduced to the person he sees reflected back.

I wish I could tell her that as well.

Even though she has not heard other warnings.

I wish she could see that.

I wish I could comfort her as she cries for someone who will never really be hers

Because the only person he can love is himself.

I wish it was not too late for her.

But she is too far beyond that now.

And all she can say anymore is repeating back what others have told her.


He threw himself off of the top of the tower

And into me, my embrace holding him.

His arms flailed, uncertain whether to pull me tighter

Or push me away as his wings worked, beating against me.
He moved upwards, climbing deeper and deeper into me.
Desperate to escape, desperate to find somewhere safe.
His father had been the same way.

But unlike his father, he learned how to revel in my feel against his flesh.
He relaxed deeper into me, the freedom a heady thing, and began

Enjoying himself, the feel of my touch in his hair as I…

Maiasson

Teacher, compulsive drafter of not always finished stories, and a generally shy and scared person who is easily bribed with chocolate.

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