Rendered Futile

Love crawled in through the window of my condominium, in the dark while all was still, the cobalt-blue nightlight flickered in the corner next to the Pinocchio marionette that sits there motionless. The window slid open slowly almost motionless. And the bite of the winter night followed. She scrawled on my soft designer blanket and her knees and feet slid towards my side of the bed. And her arms reached for the ceiling casting shadows that overlapped broken strings attached to wooden limbs. And with great force, she attacked with a dagger, thrusting and plunging again and again. With much breathing, moaning and groaning, spasms and heaving, jerking through the jaunting, she stopped and all lay still. Exhaling through her nose, in the cold, exuding two streams through her nostrils, she came to realize, I was not there. The bed was empty. She smiled and with a small smirk, arose and chose to close the window behind her as she exited.

 

As the dark beckoned her away, she began to say…

 

”Farewell, my absent prince—my broken god. You have evaded me once more, and for that I love you. It brings me a great and lacerating joy to not have you the way I so desire. I look forward to being rendered futile.”

∞