Love is a vicious circle that is eaten away like a doughnut as it continues. You would think it grows and flourishes having never experienced it. Here is the circle. It starts as a dot flickering when he eyes you across the room, and you want his eyes all over you until they are. Five drinks and four sob-stories later that dot has grown to a line. Now you're in trouble. You do something stupid that you hate to admit you regret, because you so want this to be love.
Really you just increase to a semi-circle which you than try to back track though it never works. So after you've given him everything he wants than you precede to tease him, make him want what he's already had, but he plays along. This is either, because he has nothing better to do or he is as gullible as you are looking for love (rarely the latter).
So someone brings over an article of clothing and leaves it at the others house. That is a big step though it never seems that way at first. Usually the "leaver" ends up moving in. You are three quarters the way through. The sex becomes boring, because by then both of you have realized you have nothing in common. Your love becomes a timeshare property. Neither of you ever know when to show up or stay home. Their is a power struggle of possessions, such as the remote, the refrigerator's contents, the bed, the bathroom, the money, the f-ing cat until the toilet paper becomes a problem and someone ends up storming out on their high horse.
Each of you sobs (though he never admits it)next to the phone wondering pathetically what went wrong, not daring to actually pick up the receiver. You go weeks barely eating, not getting dressed, sleeping at your friends' houses until one day you decide to go to the bar and try this again. The circle has completed and your ready for another round. You sit pretty in your 6inch heart stoppers, with your fluffy hair, and trendy top pushing your breasts out because they are the only things your shirt doesn't have room for. The heavens all look down on you and laugh pathetically. You're aiming all of yourself at that desire you had almost climaxed to the first time. That quiver you get in your bones when you orgasm, though it never truly left you. And although you won't find it here, love that is, you know nowhere else to look for it. The circle begins again (unless an unplanned pregnancy was involved).
A contest entry
- Prose II Let's Do It Again by Dalaney.
900 points, ended September 26, 2008, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Chelsea, I have said it over and over - find yourself an agent. You are too good to fade into the background. Don't settle. Move forward with your writing. Otherwise, I shall spank you! lol Love, Lane
-
A very well written piece involving the f-ing messed up behavior
patterns of the male and female pushing and pulling actions;
a simple game played between the two consenting parties as if
truth or dare.
My first impression of the piece was definitely the clear and precise
voice that you expressed in this prose. It is definitely one that can
be related to easily, and spoken through the ages. An ageless
piece without doubt.
Still...good luck.
-
Interesting write there Nutter
But to me-lost in my insanity-
Love is like a Rubik’s cube-
In that-
Me and the subject of my attention-
Twist the hell out of the facts
And of our feelings-
As in-
What was simple lust-
Becomes everlasting love-
And carnal urges-
Become ghostly adorations
Of each other’s soul-
And it’s not like we are
Trying to get all the colors
On whatever sides-
Nahh, that’s not important-
It’s simply how well we each can
Twist things so they congeal
Into one or more nights in-
Horizontal repose
With one another.
And I’d love to write more on this-
But my damn wrists hurt!
Crap, she stole my wallet-
And my Bose radio-
Damn!
Gander
Adding your comment:
