Rip

I lost him, but more importantly, I let him go. I use to pretend to read his mind and guessing at his secrets was a gift I possessed. He called me mystic, he called me goddess, and he made love to me when he took all those other women. Never knowing me, never once attempting to see or feel… we imagined a cosmos for ourselves, one where touch brought separation, action, reaction; incapable of fear or pain, we were naked there. Only star dust, we drifted. I lost him, but more importantly, I let him go.