His snake like forearm mourned bloody ink onto the paper,
As the nymph forged in, partaking his lung,
The room she hailed his catalepsy written in its confines.
He had abandoned her as a sailor in bygone,
To piers the girlish packed street corners.
Soon to become an unremembered.
An old drawn beginner chess match.
Her legs unfurled for the mocking beast
For him to feast on her uttermost emotion,
Her soul lost to break his weekly fast.
But her rearmost act of retribution
To pull a lawsuit,
Stammering about sexual abuse and forcing,
Lost it for her night time partying manner was sweet verity.
Denied but institutionalized downcast reality
Wasted porous brick surface
Sad time to pursue the doubt,
Victim of raw chauvinism.
Of course he is the victim.
Tom wrote along the white silky paper astonishing phrases of sheer chauvinistic brutality, the male controlled society, and hacking feminist non offensive publishing mostly in blogs. He intercepted every defending act of women, held high as their thesis, and poisoned it with cruel drafts of intercepting any type of human rights to halt their, fishlike words, in the round, uterus shaped fish tank. This was their world, and him from the outside observed and control her reddish scales beautifully well knit in a fish, who thought was free.
Liz, wonderful short blonde, wondering in the coitus, chewed his lungs, his heart, his yellowish liver, till satisfied all around dreadful dreamy night. She would giggle about the supposed control he had over this mediocre dumb fella. He was tall and muscular, intoned soothing voiced English man. She thought she manipulated the night like a spider her web.
Tom suddenly, in the middle of the wind roaring night, fell on the ground, pale lipped, twitching and spiting foam; it was a catalepsy attack. She knew what to do in these cases but thought. “ Should I help him?” She pondered about this decision until she thoughtfully put his head sideways, put a small drape in his clasped mouth and waited. Thank god it was short, Liz had saved Tom´s life.
Next morning Tom leaves her abandoning her breast to see the world. Maybe being left astray by him wasn’t so hard to bear after all. But she disliked being alone. He was to be forgotten in no time without sorrow.
But soon came the day he would come back begging from his plunged attempt to gain meaning to his life without her. Trying to fill her thoughts with petal like blossoms, looking for forgiveness, being denied and obliviated.
Soon he grabs her coarsely by the arms, tumbles her on the couch, prop her legs open with his loin and legs, driving a pointy lance shape phrase to her ear. “ I´ll have you anyways queer.” Plunged himself into her los emotions drinking every dose of blood, until he finished. He then decided to leave the house hereto was still not a criminal, so he contemplated the scene, her low cries of desperation, and physical pain along her naked bruised body.
She decided to pull a lawsuit on Tom, with her cousin being a second hand novice lawyer, planned and remembered every bloody detail, eager and convinced they were going to win till the hearing came. Liz was attending to Bacchanalia about twice a year and had a girlfriend, which was the defense Tom had, she also had relations with different men all the time. Therefore the attempt to sue Tom was ruled out, not to forget the expensive law suit that Tom had.
She came out loosing big, was sent to an institution for irregular immoral behavior. The institution was in the countryside, and taken out of all the city had to offer she just had to get the idea she wasn’t going to be there for a small period of time.
A shameful story of how men and women have different rights at this point in history!!
Author Notes: To my sister Camila, a lawyer who works on human rights.