If his happiness was whole
my love for him could remain
a stagnant pool
contained inside my chest—
it would be enough
to know his love was returned
by someone he adored—
but when I became to him
a sympathetic confidant
entrusted with the status of his love,
I couldn’t help but quiver
at reports of insufficient affections
and uninspiring conversations—
so how can I be blamed for wishing
to remedy these deficiencies
by molding my body around his form
and whispering in his ear
a reminder that this world contains
alternative sources of happiness—
and I’d like very much
to be one of them.






Painting by Pablo Picasso “Girl Before a Mirror” 1932

One thought on “Proposition”

  1. You really make it seem really easy with your presentation but I in finding this matter to be really something which I feel I would by no means understand. It seems too complex and very wide for me. I am taking a look forward on your next post, I’ll attempt to get the hold of it!


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