Fuego III

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
now, I wanted to tell her that she let me down and that I was
the one that she needed and that anything else was
unnecessary, but her tears said so much more than her words
could have mustered. Staging a mutiny in a sense. Just the
wideness and wonder of the world enough to disdain this
seedy emotion, I said and I think this caused her to go over
the edge. She slapped me. And I felt humiliated but attracted
to her at the same time, something sexual about the brute
force of a beautiful woman hitting you; A primal scream, in a
way.
Both rooms were now spiteful.
This arguing would bring the hotel down another level,
though the mustard brown carpet and flower wall paper did
not help either. Though I accepted that I played a role in
what was happening the actual happenings felt outer body,
as if another was speaking whilst I watched her cup her ears
against the wall. The tears of the accused, though
remorseless as they may be the tears fell into a hotel at
Brighton Beach.
After Brighton she had changed, something within her that
had reigns on her sanity switched and opened translucent,
she became bitter and less sure of herself. Rejection, even in
the eyes of a psyche that was trying to uphold a sense of
sanity (Ashley’s) arrives like a thief in the night, for she was
altogether taken now; consumed by the freshness and what
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