04.30.05

wind and the toast sun

I saw through her metaphors. In the wind, her wild black hair circling around her in a haze and slapping your skin, I was jealous of her. I was jealous of her hair and her natural femininity. Even in this skirt, with this earring, with this necklace, she turned your head.
I don’t blame you; I was becoming drunk on it too, but all the same…
I wonder if it was that that made you less interesting. She had you, so why bother. Too, then you weren’t man enough to match her which is strange because sometimes I can feel it hitting me as you look, so seriously.
My new man was the sun, toasting me deeper brown beside you. Did you see me, gathering each delicious drop? I hadn’t had him in a while, and he was so much more interesting.

shi-ou-sama at 5:11 p.m.

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