I woke too soon and it felt as though someone was making love to me while trying to stab my heart. But the knife was blunt. That had its advantage - it was more painful, but less effective.
It is such a failed romanticised notion, that of a knife to a heart. It does not weigh the practicalities. There is bone and sinew so one must sin just right to get the blade between them to find its aim.
Such is the guise of love.
So tell me, you whose profession writes more of this spectre than any other, who has probably known more lovers in a month than I have known in a lifetime, why does love manifest as lust and carelessness.
No comments:
Post a Comment