Bare Feelings

In all probability you have a face, and a mouth on it that could form intelligible words. I am not sure. I am occupied otherwise. Your wide child-bearing hips, accentuated by that narrow waist, are having a hearty conversation with my evolutionary needs. I don’t love you. I don’t want to flay your soul and carve it with an intellectual self portrait. I don’t want to let my ego destroy the person you represent to gratify my need for approval and conformity. And by destroy, I mean change it ever so little. No, I just want you. And this seemingly vulgar emotion of lust is my sincere attempt at respecting you as an individual; a confession that says I want you as you are. I want you in the capacity you excel at and trade it with my best. I want exactly what you are right now. Nothing else and not later.