She had cheated; he knew by now. She had undressed herself so that he would pass on his desire to connect emotionally. But it was too late. He had stumbled upon the fruit of love; his affection had grown, but she lay naked to dress the fruit. He lay vulnerable under the city lights, for they had a contract to keep the fruit away. But he wasn’t exactly the way he portrayed himself, and she wasn’t either. He turned and looked at the corner where the lights converged and darkened, like his day. She hugs him from behind, giving him enough impulse to refute his way. But there is a picture of her with the guy she chose to go astray.
They both slept together, yet looking different ways. Decisions were made, but the boy — oh, poor boy — thought he had his ways. He would use that picture and refute his way. Leave the fruit buried in the mud with no hope of finding new grains. They submerge together again; he resists a little, but she gets her way. The conclusion is simple: only the boy has now lost the way. Moments after they made love, she was back in the game. He trusted her words that others were just frivolous affairs and that he mattered to her in every way. Words were now stronger than her past, even if she had put them on display.
Lost in it, he finds a new way. But it was too late; she had something more to say. We have to end it, but you will still be mine to say, for you mean more than just a friend now, as we both had it for a few days. He dazzled her emotions, as he was baffled by her play. Committed to make her sin on the same bed, but this time it was only half way. She resisted again and went the other way, still holding his hands but still asking to move away. With a swollen soul, he chooses to move away, for every thought is cluttered now, and he was half in his grave. He let the anger surface yet awaits for time to bring her real her back in play, for there was an interval standing both ways.
He asked for charity, but she had both pictures to display. His anger was cold, but she didn’t let them pave their way, her scent was strong, and their memories hadn’t yet faded away, as it was only yesterday that he held her in every possible way.
She knew the rest, and he was put to test, but nothing could be solved as she didn’t turn up on his last day. He left the city yet stuck to his phone as he prayed for her name to display, and he could end it this time with the anger that was now ready to display. But if only he knew what he had to say, her script was ready.
They both knew what had come their way, and she knew giving up was easier than having been given up by the other. It’s easier to convince oneself that you made a choice than when you have to obey…
Now he lies reading the past, deciding which way to go, as she holds his hand and looks at other men on display.