Gone to another land of non-existance. The images flash and talk to him. All else, is but a figment of the surounding area. The sex, well what sex. She is, but a pawn of self absorption, in his minds eye. Regardless of what is spoken in what ever tone presented is the conversation met with turbulent silence. The TV knows. It steals the power. It invokes a surreal atmosphere to surround him in lust, fear and reserve. So what exists in this reality but repetitive uncalled answers to all his life’s questions.
Someday she will be gone. Gone to another land of non-existance into an atmosphere consumed with lust. There is not another way to describe her dysphoria. Even books hath not the answers for she does not know the questions to ask. Delusions. She waits. She withers. She ponders what to do. Is it up to her or up to him to unwind this tightened noose. Money is of the mind. Money is not matter.
Words land on deaf ears. Responses withheld. The air is heavy with desire. Unveil your fucking eyes and see what is passionate for it can be gone in the midst of your non-reaction.