Gender unspecific: A deconstruction.

In one of his better moods,
he had said that he would be responsible
for a rift between us, if one was ever to happen.
Now that it has, I'd love him to repeat his words
and test them in the fire of cold sobreity instead of fuming passion.
For we say an awful lot in fits of intense feeling,
but it takes courage - real, unmitigated courage -
to sing lovestruck symphonies knowing full well
there's no instrument to back you up;
To dream of the greens,
in the heart of Autumn.

--

I loved how she sat cross legged,
the bulk of her fatty thigh pressed hard against her calf.
And the slightly tapering ankle dotted with recently waxed hair-pores.
Her long, broad, perfectly plain, unwrinkled soles,
and the angular toes with blunt, un-ladylike toenails painted black or blue.
The earthy smell of her loose pajamas as my face
burrowed further and further still into her cushiony thigh.
It seemed like the fragrance of her body,
would bind me forever to her like an invisible charm.
But the fatty, voluptuous cavity of her knee,
was only a transient, carnal portal to the delights of infatuation,
a realm of illusions, a mass of flesh and bone and nothing more.