StreamOfConsciousness

13.

I finally demeaned the beauty queen in the manner
of a jilted lover of younger days gone by. She was
the pinnacle of a pin up dream and I laid across the
hall imagining her pressed against my body like she
eventually was after a particularly enjoyable six pack.
She ran away and joined the circus with an acrobat lover
who slides down ice luges while the people clap wildly
and oo and ah at manufactured and mindless nonsense.
She lost her mother and her father was her child
so naturally she sought someone to fill the void. The acrobat
is twenty years her senior, but you can't put a price on stability
for an orphan such as she was
and a solid future is an aphrodisiac of immeasurable strengths.
I remember her sensations and her sinews and she was warm when
she was there. She left me when I loved her. I don't feel bitter
about that because it was the love of a child and she had quite
enough of that in her time.
So she ran away and joined the circus and the acrobat still luges
and she smiles in photographs and each night places her tiara
in a little wooden box that her mother used to own for her necklaces
and she says a silent goodnight.
Me, I demean the beauty queen but only when I dream
because in the waking world you have to be a man
and part of being a man
is knowing when to
stop.