and then she confessed her love...
the process of inflation is far more enjoyable than the realization that deflation is inevitably going to occur, more enjoyable than the aftermath, for it is that foreplay that evokes a certain kind of bliss that i have not been able to find elsewhere, perhaps because i refuse to look anywhere but into her eyes, and since i am now free and no longer have to live in disguise, i am wise with my expressions and am patient with confessions, just like my dad told me to be.
from the sidelines, her obsession and desire are easy to spot, or so i have been told, but then again i do feel the cold wind on my naked chest when the bedroom window is open, but then as i close its doors, i cry from happiness in morse and know that the source of all of these emotions is not dead beneath the ocean's water but is living here for me, inspiring poetry and freeing me from my prison cell which i never thought i would escape.
i may bleed onto her innocence, but i feel her presence and am comfortable when around her, joyous when i surround myself with these art pieces we once crafted, and it is this comfort that i longed for for so long.
to be her first and for her to be mine would mean that i succeeded in love and got what i needed, giving her just as much, if not more, in return.
and then she confessed her love...
©LukaKorba
With love,