she took her clothes off
bit by bit
she took her jeans, size 12. the ones with big holes on the knees, which she will never mend.
she took the t-shirt which she bought 5 years ago on a ski trip to France. I was never in France. Shhh its good for the story. The green one.
she took the under-wear off as well. La Senza white bra and the Primany panties. They laid beneath her feet.
and carefully put the black socks in the laundry basket beneath the bed.
then she took off the earings- green ones, made for her with seventeen tons of love in a small workshop in Zagreb, once upon a long lost time.
and the medallion named after one of her favorite books: Ilium. Dan Simmons' one. the reason she bought and got disappointed in Flashback, a few weeks ago.
she never wore any other jewelry.
then she took the sense of a day off. it itched. it felt like a bikini wax. Brazilian you mean? Shhh. it bounced around the room and finally settled in the corner of the mirror.
then she put a nail in defense machinery. the fluffy one, made from what was left from her favorite childhood doll.
the body pulsated.
and she was free to express.
she was right. and she was naked. and she regressed. and she progressed in her nakedness. and she was wrong.
and it did not matter at-all.
bit by bit
she took her jeans, size 12. the ones with big holes on the knees, which she will never mend.
she took the t-shirt which she bought 5 years ago on a ski trip to France. I was never in France. Shhh its good for the story. The green one.
she took the under-wear off as well. La Senza white bra and the Primany panties. They laid beneath her feet.
and carefully put the black socks in the laundry basket beneath the bed.
then she took off the earings- green ones, made for her with seventeen tons of love in a small workshop in Zagreb, once upon a long lost time.
and the medallion named after one of her favorite books: Ilium. Dan Simmons' one. the reason she bought and got disappointed in Flashback, a few weeks ago.
she never wore any other jewelry.
then she took the sense of a day off. it itched. it felt like a bikini wax. Brazilian you mean? Shhh. it bounced around the room and finally settled in the corner of the mirror.
then she put a nail in defense machinery. the fluffy one, made from what was left from her favorite childhood doll.
the body pulsated.
and she was free to express.
she was right. and she was naked. and she regressed. and she progressed in her nakedness. and she was wrong.
and it did not matter at-all.
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