I never got to hear her scream, although she told me she
does, she liking it hard and fast, banding the wall with bed board until she
came keep it from coming and then, maybe, she still wants/ needs, more and I
wonder at what point does it translate into something even more, rough or not,
so potent an potion, she can’t distinguish it from love.
Just why all this comes into my head when it is far too late
to ask her, I can’t say, just one more last regret I get when I realize I am
(we are) specks in her rearview mirror as she rolls away, some other body in
the headlights, some new aspect she intends to explore with somebody else, if
not someone completely knew, then someone who can be rough at times as well as
gentle, make the bed board bang the wall so loudly all the neighbors in all the
other rooms can hear or in a whisper make her come out of her shell with just a
touch, and I wonder, which does she really want or must shave it both ways, always,
any way she can. I never heard her scream in that way and now I know I never
will.
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