i wasn't trying to make you proud.

when you said the future was
all mine to mold
never did i want to see
the truth behind the lies

you taught me to
open my heart and
understand

to breathe deep in the
open air

so here's to living
in the moment, because it
passed

yet it's not right that you've moved
on and i'm still stuck
under this same
rock

our memories now a melancholy baby
who is dying from an overdose of time
no longer. i finally could

put your smile away and
out of sight. but
i, to this day,
still don't know where to put my hands
on someone and
not feel like they should be on you

"I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you," she whispered, pausing shortly so I could feel her breath on my ear. She moved back to look into my eyes with her left hand still on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I said sheepishly, looking down to avoid eye contact. "My religion forbids that sort of thing."

But she already knew what I was going to say that, and was ready for it. Slowly placing her remaining hand on my other shoulder while leaning in, then letting her cheek brush softly against mine while she moved her mouth to my ear and whispered:

"You have no idea the fallacies we could pick apart.. one after another.... " She moved to my other ear, rubbing her cheek against mine, noses touching as they passed.

"The inconsistencies..."

Her head dropped a little, leaning into mine so I could smell her hair, and came back up toward my ear and quietly uttered, "The false analogies... and a sample size..." She slowly breathed in and out, then gasped: "of one."

I couldn't help myself. I was hers, and it was wonderful. I never heard from my religion again. Logic was more elegant, with clean, smooth lines. She seduced me, pure and simple, and I've never looked back.