Folds in the Moral

It seemed closer than ever. In the tread of his thoughts as they leveraged their antidotes. Possibility. Pleasure by pleasure. There was the door. So stern. So certain. Of the shadows it would flaunt. In hot repetitions that burned softly on my eager skin. It was arrogant. In the shudder of the bed as I'd try to fall asleep after it was over. He was too. As I recall. As I let the moment find its footing.

In the beginning I did want to be loved. But after a while all I wanted was to prove solitude had faults. The kind that chafe and spill continents into one another. Changing the world. That islands aren't forever.

I've been with him so many times. Drizzle dressed up as thunderstorms. Lovers amok on neglected lives. Cobwebs forming in the dormant corners.

The darkness there more than ample to disguise even something so near.