THE MOAN BENEATH:
The sunrays surely hit, lighting up the horizon, waking up the masses, sending out its radiant heat to men of all classes, she wakes up with memoirs of the night that was, time passes.
She is dragged back to the sheets, more sleep, no, more weep, the pounding and the smashing, then I read the address, 19th street, Winston Avenue, she feels the silent creeping in into her doors, the entry, entry that leaves a mess, she lies silent on the bed minutes later, undisturbed, used, not abused, its legal, she fears the stigma.
Ding Dong!, internal decoration, oh welcome, she says and smiles, a crispy smile, its eight in the morn and shes still in her night dress, wow, so the mirror broke when you were shifting the bed to a new location right? And the door knob no longer works? How?
She then goes to depth of explaining, tales, fables, once upon a time, I silently curse for starting the show.
This lady, ring on her finger, fascinates, the glam still is, sits on her bed and sleeps away, everytime, I think I realise why, I know. A touch on her neck and she jumps with a start, sorry!, "had a sleepless night?" I pay the service and wave goodbye.
Night lands, she dreads of the moon, already slept enough, ready for the night, she's getting used to it, the night.
The metallic music, the rugged beard, the smooth hand, the view of the city lights, while lying flat, mosquitoes don't scare, Malaria does'nt happen here, ignorance is bliss, the nipple bites.
The selfish lover, evrytime she dares she gets one on the face, the screams get louder, pause: play, the flights, pause, play, every hour, no defiance, this was never what she had wished for.
I encounter the man of the house as I stream in for repairs yet again, without being told, I head for the bedroom.
I find her crying on her bed, she does'nt want to talk, I take my eyes for a tour and right on the wall, I notice something, bride and groom, photos in a certificate of marriage, centered on the wall, never touched or changed, she tells me thats what cast doom.
Everytime we are at it, he threatens and points at it, and I am forced to let it be, she edges nearer, holds my hand, eyes in gloom, cries on my chest, and as I look back on the marriage certificate, the sun's rays light it up, I see its appearance, what she sees everyday.
The certificate seems polished, gleaming, displaying much, a bond, a jail term, a moan beneath.
By
The sunrays surely hit, lighting up the horizon, waking up the masses, sending out its radiant heat to men of all classes, she wakes up with memoirs of the night that was, time passes.
She is dragged back to the sheets, more sleep, no, more weep, the pounding and the smashing, then I read the address, 19th street, Winston Avenue, she feels the silent creeping in into her doors, the entry, entry that leaves a mess, she lies silent on the bed minutes later, undisturbed, used, not abused, its legal, she fears the stigma.
Ding Dong!, internal decoration, oh welcome, she says and smiles, a crispy smile, its eight in the morn and shes still in her night dress, wow, so the mirror broke when you were shifting the bed to a new location right? And the door knob no longer works? How?
She then goes to depth of explaining, tales, fables, once upon a time, I silently curse for starting the show.
This lady, ring on her finger, fascinates, the glam still is, sits on her bed and sleeps away, everytime, I think I realise why, I know. A touch on her neck and she jumps with a start, sorry!, "had a sleepless night?" I pay the service and wave goodbye.
Night lands, she dreads of the moon, already slept enough, ready for the night, she's getting used to it, the night.
The metallic music, the rugged beard, the smooth hand, the view of the city lights, while lying flat, mosquitoes don't scare, Malaria does'nt happen here, ignorance is bliss, the nipple bites.
The selfish lover, evrytime she dares she gets one on the face, the screams get louder, pause: play, the flights, pause, play, every hour, no defiance, this was never what she had wished for.
I encounter the man of the house as I stream in for repairs yet again, without being told, I head for the bedroom.
I find her crying on her bed, she does'nt want to talk, I take my eyes for a tour and right on the wall, I notice something, bride and groom, photos in a certificate of marriage, centered on the wall, never touched or changed, she tells me thats what cast doom.
Everytime we are at it, he threatens and points at it, and I am forced to let it be, she edges nearer, holds my hand, eyes in gloom, cries on my chest, and as I look back on the marriage certificate, the sun's rays light it up, I see its appearance, what she sees everyday.
The certificate seems polished, gleaming, displaying much, a bond, a jail term, a moan beneath.
By
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