Evolution

There was a time her body yearned for touch,
the internal explosion of his skin on hers, lips,
arms, legs, hips; moments when the universe slowed,
only becoming flow at the resumption of contact.

There was a time when she would do anything,
trust in his motives, revel in the sense of doing;
knowing he was pleased with her, sensing his
satifaction when she followed his lead where
ever, what ever, he would think to suggest.

But now she searches far to find the love she
had, the trust that was implicit, the faith that
he would never hurt her. She finds excuses
not to touch, for it only heightens her sense
of wrongness, of the things she now finds lacking.

She knows everything he did was for him, not her,
and that he never did try to protect her. Selfish
when she was giving, closed where she was open,
inner laughter bubbling at the thought of her sacrifice.

"Do you love me?" he asks.
"Of course I do."

But she wonders if she does, and if he knows.

The answer, she thinks, is no.....and yes.


Read more: http://www.myspace.com/ninelivesandmore/blog#ixzz0xcvLh3ah