...

Never did he speak my name.
To him I´m 'you' . Not even a woman yet.
A girl, just because I soaked his pillow with desperate tears, just because I want so much.
So are you afraid, little boy? Afraid to admit your feelings? If there are any at all..?
Gow, how I wish there were something in him reserved only for me!
Something to cradle, be sure of, hold to my breast and whisper
 'There. This part of you is mine, and you know it.'

But he does not speak, does not commit. He grins, then frowns, laughs at my foolish reckless desire.
'I'm just a boy' he said. 'I´m just trying to make my way, too. Just as you.'
He just a boy. Me 'a nice girl'. How he turns every word sour and sore, how he makes us sound like nothing special at all! Most men would do the opposite, they would exaggerate and speak of love, love, love.
But he, he makes us sound like even less than we are!
He makes me one-dimensional, a paper figure or some aquaintance or some stranger on TV.
Awful, sad sad. But in the slopes between the words, the cracks of mind, the language of smell, taste, eyes snapping closely at eyes..there I become everything, the ripe soft flesh of fruit, a strong wising woman at her best, a girl no longer shattered but at ease.

So why on earth can't he at least admit and respect this; that we have 'it', this fragile sensual exciting energy, this rare unspeakable physical connection?
How can someone be prince charming and the soldier stabbing the dragon at the very same time?
If I'm not yet a woman in his eyes, may be a dragon, and he sure stabs me..
maybe he's mistaking the princess for a dragon, maybe he finds nothing of worth in me.
Maybe he needs to kill kill kill what he fears and wants the most, many of us do so...
Yet no, how self-absorbed to trust in any of this fairytale-belief..he just a boy, me a nice girl.
Maybe it's all there is to our story, all I mean to him, all we are destined to be, choke all hope girl and have a seat in reality..starve patiently, there might be another kiss someday, another night of love-making, and honestly, don't you crave for it?