Thursday, 16 October 2008

• Receptacle

  I am not a receptacle for sex. When did you lose all emotion for intimacy? Have you given up on any possible show of passion with me? Once there was a time when we started in missionary; laughin, talking, being silly amid kisses and hugs.

  Where did it go? I hug you to my breast and feel the ache, not because I’m holiding you tightly but because you cringed just a little.
  

  When I want sex, I’m too needy. I seem to be asking for some unreasonable demand. When you want sex, yes, I capitulate. Like a severely dehydrated desert I accept what rain may come. (Hmm, that pun may have been intended but I’m not sure.) Yet lately it is so cold, so patterned I can gain no joy or spark of pleasure from it.
  We no longer look into eachothers eyes. What would have been a fun finishing move is now the standard start and finish. I am merely a routine.

  ~sigh~

  Sit down, dear, we have to talk.
  
  

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