She loves me with her every breath and,
All her thoughts are of and for me
(so she says).
To what end??
i wonder daily.
To what end does she endeavor??
i've nothing for her.
i do not love her.
Yet she is content.
Satisfied to be there in my orbit.
Thankful to sit quietly near my side.
Never asking for a thing from me.
Always giving, always ready.
Her only want is to be allowed.
Her single request is not to be sent away.
She asks for nothing but for permission to love me without boundary.
In the dark, she comes to me.
In the night, she shows herself.
When all is quiet and still,
as the moon watches over,
She is there.
Teeth and tongue,
nails and soft breath.
Vicious kisses down my neck.
Fingers, sighs and half closed eyes.
Only three words;
"You. Are. Mine."
And i say nothing.
i never repeat the lie.
She knows and i let her.
She is content with here just now.
Words; half sobbed half whispered prayers...
she paints my skin in Saint-like effigy.
With her love. With her tears.
i am her goddess.
She worships me with her hatred.
She bathes me in her love.
She wants only my attention
When i've no one better to lay it on.
She hides in me.
She does not love me.
She only hates herself.
