Sometimes feeling nothing at all is the worst kind of pain.
I watched a bug walking on the lip of a flower pot. Around and round it went, until I lost count and I found myself thinking,
It’s walked a hundred miles and gotten nowhere.
I’m pretty sure I know just how it feels.
I watched her from across the street; sitting with my coffee in an open air cafe. She could be anyone, single or married, a business owner or stay at home mother. Certainly,I knew better than anyone not to judge appearances, just ask my Mother and she’ll tell you.
Then it crossed my mind, what would a man think, seeing a woman talking on the phone and striding confidently down the street? Would he even notice the strength of her step or would he think only of her legs, the shape and feel of them? Would he see her posture, reform school perfect, or does his eyes drift only as high as her buttocks and hips, swaying as she walks? Would he notice how her top was perfectly coordinated with her skirt and jacket, or would he see only her breasts, held within folds of white silk?
I shook my head. For most, the cover is more important than the book and sex conquers all. Yet, they miss the sexiest part of a woman, located right behind her eyes. They cannot understand the fieriness of her love or the strength of her loyalty.
In their fantasies, they will overlook her intelligence, ignore her voice, and take the beauty of a multidimensional being and reduce it to a one sided parody of a reality they can never fully understand.