The fantasy is always better than reality, right?
I have devoured
you countless
times,
striped you bare
with my eyes,
tasting pleasure
as I choreograph
in my head,
but agony
was our reality,
sour taste,
revulsion,
however brief
it lasted,
I guess,
I fell
for the
version in
my imagination,
the you
that does
not exist.
I Write Her 