A Woman’s Lament

Post-modern Venus

What if the only reason you’re staying is because he needs you too much? Love is as minimal as certainty and time and patience survives mutually along with the heavy burdens anchoring the relationship. Space, on the other hand, is only for comfort, a void feeding the soul, wide enough for it to breath. Intimacy is a dull assurance that this is not charity work. The other keeps on faking pleasure while the duration of communion shortens as the excitement fades its colors, as heat rests on a pathetic Celsius at room temperature. The future is a remote place where it withholds your ability to vow and to hold it long enough, like the kids’ contest–the longer who hold his breath, wins. It later becomes a competition of the most faithful soul, the winner gets to blame the other for being a heartless liar. The past was where love resides…

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