My Lover’s Imagined Monologue
Moto: the woman loves herself in different ways, depending of the way she is being looked at
Dewy city sights covered in the purple colour of dawn increases both her fear and starvation for my humbly offered affection.
I am trapped in a question by her mind that keeps on turning me over and under her uncertainty
The torture is bringing me close to her like a magnet
I’m just ascending to a better self with selfish demeanor.
I am her soul’s personal photographer
And , Lord, how her vanity shows when I capture some different expression she didn’t know about
But soon her anger of a spoiled princess fades when she lowers her head in regret.
You see, she’s one of those who get jealous with their own reflection.
She fails to notice that her middle name is Woman