– I’m not happy
She said it quietly, almost as if to herself more than to me or in conversation.
– You’re not ?
– No I’m not. I’ve not been for sometime. When we are together, which is rare, all I do is cry. And we fight. Or he’s not even there at all. There’s nothing worse than feeling invisible. Hollowed out. I’m more than a face, you know? I’m so much more than that.
– What are you going to do?
— shit. Shit shit shit. I just want to be desired. I want someone to think of me first thing in the morning and just before they go to sleep. I want to be desired. Not taken for granted. Not assumed. Not controlled. Just ….desired. You know what I mean right?
– Hey, you’re fine. Everyone wants a poets gaze but,
– Without the poet.
She lit a cigarette
I poured another drink
Neither of us knew what we were going to do….
I looked out the window
It was raining
