Alexandra Lang is a 22 year old performer currently traveling the world, writing about her time around the universe.
He told me he likes the way I look in my dress, when he really means he likes the way the seam meets the skin on my upper thigh.
He asked me how I can possibly adore him, when he doesn’t even like himself.
He casually spoke of his misfortunes as if they justify why he is the way he is.
And then he looked to me for deeper meaning but only found shallow desire.
All length and bone. Holding me must feel like wrapping yourself around a bundle of thinly cut jagged branches.
But you said that our body’s fit together like velcro. Melted together like rain and road. Absorbed each other like dew and grass.
Maybe that was enough for you. Yet, it always felt faulty to me.
Like a single missed stop sign would leave me spiralling off of a cliff.
So, give me a lover who doesn’t leave marks.
One that can disappear without a single trace left behind.
Give me a lover wise in his intensity, and noble in his vitality.
A lover who will appreciate our time together, instead of reprimanding me for not handing over the clock.
The clock never left my hands, and you can't stop it from ticking.
JourneyHolm on November 29, 2017:
Wow, this is a very powerful piece, well written, and thought provoking. It was poetic and prosaic. Keep up the good work.
Frank Atanacio from Shelton on November 29, 2017:
a clever little domestic piece... hmm