love, Ruth Nineke

An Unfair Dis-Enchantment, As It Were

Post Published: December 27, 2023

on a Saturday afternoon stroll through the quiet turns on a winding road, beneath the looming elegance of an ancient pair of beautiful trees, I felt the dancing arrival of your scent as it meandered through the breeze and for another moment in the multitudes of fractal time which have so far comprised very many sandlike days of my most recent life, I battled through the torrential patterns of my own desire, scathing, soothing, burning, cooling, warming, rocking, stroking, knocking, holding me, folding, and molding me, until finally I’m dusting myself off and thrusting my conscious common sense instantaneously back to the present tense. And there I looked about four or five times more, willing you to materialize but alas you didn’t show, and so I continued through as I often do, a daydreaming fool, filled to her lip with delulu, deeply and not-so-neatly tucked inside a permanent self-induced denial.


 

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