he sounds relieved he is not crying his compensatory girth invented to rescue his interior from how he used to look with his children he plays simple he plays easy g. his wife meanwhile says jocose things about her having married him she could have had a doctor and she still has trouble figuring what made her marry him
she still repeats the mantra that anointed her in someone's eyes someone fictitious and someone she paralyzed with blatantly inaccurate imposing factlets she might make up as she went along inventing prior hemlines he's the kind of prince her light footprints might have confined to tower longings
he's the kind of a projection she might hurt if/when confronted by the way she feels to see this big man looking straight across beyond himself into the standing weeds that welcome someone to a pseudo home communicating that the hurt one feels is very much contagious and the hurt one does not speak invents the other selves
Post a Comment