Women have been a point of weakness for me. The novelty of a new face, the lustful seductress leading me back to her place. Why is their house always empty when they invite me inside? My lust blinded me to the distinct lack of furniture, of anything of substance really. Nethertheless I would motion to the bed, for it’s time to undress. Undressing with a stranger, our nakedness lay bare, and yet, no intimacy do we share. A physical act is but only an act, the realness and power of being laid to bed lies in the strength of the emotional thread.
women.
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changing self 