I woke up beside her dry heaving and closed my eyes to pick the emotional remnants off me like spiderwebs on my skin. I assure you I will crumble one day, but not today. No, nothing will happen today, my love. I keep my eyes closed. Indeed they are the windows to the soul, but its quite evident that there is no use for windows at this time of night. Everything is pitch black and nothing really even matters at all. It’s the perfect time to shed decency and break bad news. It’s too late to turn back and too soon to realize what we are getting ourselves into. I supposed the windows to my soul are boarded up and vandalized. Hers are stained glass and it is no secret that those decorative types of of panes usually hide the greatest secrets and the darkest history. In that sense, she reminds me of a cathedral and, I never quite felt right or belonged near such places. Such bodies.
No – Windows serve us no good at this hour, I turn over and scan her body with my palms. I am not looking for a window, I would like to find a part of her anatomy that could be known as the “floodlight of the soul”. I would like to find a lantern among her limbs and soft cells. I need a light house, she just needs a quick fuck. She needs to go home. But I doubt anyone, anywhere would notice the difference – including me. Perhaps tonight is not the night to be introduced to the rest of my life
Oh well. We can try again in the morning.