JUST

“Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs/ Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes…” Shakespeare

Stretched over the pure-white porcelain she vomited heavily. She rid herself of every word that she was ever fed. She heaved for every moment that he satisfied her once insatiable appetite. Her body was overwhelmed and pained with emotion. When the vomiting stopped her tears began and she lay bundled in front of the place where she had just a few seconds prior released a year of the most solidifying moments of her existence. Warm tears streamed down her cold face, and the contrasting elements sent vibrations of ambivalent emotions through her body. Not sure of herself or her motions, she moved carefully from the isolation of the bathroom floor to the comfort of her bed.

She adored him but he was seemingly too far for her to love. He was absolute but not hers. She could repeat his words before he spoke them. She could capture his emotion before he felt it. She knew nothing more than she knew him. Soon she drifted into sleep.

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