She cries… Her tears were louder than a deafening scream.
His heart aches… He is simply misunderstood.
They attempt to move in synchronized sensuality. They are rigid, robotic, and distant.
Caught in each other’s pain, they suffer in hiding.
The silence consumes every beat of the fragile hearts.
They mask their shame with exotic, explosive, and intense s*x.
It is short-lasting.
It’s all about “Get in and get out”.
Her Yoni yearns for affectionate care.
His cock desires worship beyond his senses.
Her lips craved his hardness.
His hardness craved her warmth.
Yet, they are both caught in the obsessive compulsion for completion.
They lay there, feeling lost.
Holding their breath. Not wanting to breathe, but needing so desperately to FEEL.
Something…
Anything… Of substance and connection.
Their intimacy fades into oblivion.
The dark night of the soul takes the life essence of their soul.
Trapped in each other’s shadows. Their trauma waiting to heal.
Their bodies crave to be made whole by the recognition of “We are one, we needn’t do what was done to us”…
But they miss that boat. They are burning the bridges to their healing because they are too scared to see themselves in each other.
God calls to them.
They cannot hear.
The pain of change consumes their terrorized minds.
They go back to what they know. And that is s*x to forget…
Not to remember who they truly are but to run from the possibility of feeling bliss in the arms of the other.
But they cannot. She does not feel safe within her own nervous system, how can she trust his?
He plays out his fears by distancing himself from her softness. He fears he will be consumed, so he runs.
God speaks to them.
“It’s now or never, can I trust you”?
Is he speaking to them, or is he speaking to you?
One is glad to be of service.
Stefanos Sifandos
Artist: breus.art