I Should Have Known Better

Her hips screamed alimony, not a soft sifting scream but the kind when you squeezed senstive parts, there were no sensitive parts to her. She know her value and she exercised at the expense of her soul. 

She was completely in control and in her blindspot she would not understand the true power of surrender. She didn't give herself to love but to the absense of it. 

She was in a dark place and her words were just as dark, like watching the world destroy itself and smiling along with it into our very end. She knew where this was going, a faux relationship with faux kisses and faux sex, faux stress and embracing the only end. 

That there is an end. There is no light at the end of the tunnel because there is no tunnel. Only a dark pit warmed by the bones of lovers lost with their bodies resting around a campfire of a hope that could have been. 

They were a part of the perfect sin, a man wanting at first to play a women, then be played, then slayed, then broken and bare, and then wanting of something that never was. 

But it was all in her hips and I should have known better.