the confetti-woven eyeliner drips down my cheek
it didn’t even make it to the morning
i move his hand off my exposed midriff
wearing crop tops flatter me
seeing the looks i get do not
i stumble out of bed
the cosmos from last night are still making me see stars
the mirror in the bathroom calls me
and i answer
but the person on the other side
isn’t someone i recognize
his face is painted with colors
but my eyes drift to his waist
a body that looks as good as his
will never again be adorned like this
what a waste
his eyes wait for me as i raise my head
my thoughts have never been a mystery to him
he’s been there for years now
and he has no intention of leaving
“it doesn’t have to be this way”
he mumbles as i drain the rainbow out of him
but he knows it does
it couldn’t be possibly anything else
because if he steps out of that mirror
i’ll no longer be a man
i’ll no longer be seen as a person
i’ll be just another label
About the Creator
Nimish Gounder
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The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I adore your vocabulary. :)