they loved eachother.
not driven by necessity, not by the 'blaze of passion' often falsely ascribed to love.
they loved eachother because everything around them willed it - the trees, the stars, the sky over their heads, the earth beneath their feet.
he had morbid, sterile, hateful fits of hunger and desire.
that changed when they met.
the taste of whole satisfaction lingered and the better was beyond imaginable.
but now,
now, the strings of his heart tightened like those of a violin, making a hurt and pain-filled tone when played the wrong way.
their heart let slip a strained scream, the most violent piece of music played.
this was because the one he loved most, with all of his aching heart, lay on his lap, drenched in tears
because he had failed to make her feel loved enough.
she always did like music.
YOU ARE READING
shadow work
Poesía"diving into the unconscious material that shapes our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors,"
