He was never certain why Mary always walked the way she did
Or how her hips swayed side to side so abruptly
And how her perfume always lingered on his tongue
It was awful
He would just imagine begging her to stop and remain natural
To keep the perfume off
To embrace her natural clean scent,
Not the harshness of chemical compliments
He wondered how it would look for her to move normally and lithely,
As her body appeared created to do
She was almost disgustingly fake
And he loved her
And oh how he LOATHED her
Who was created to become unnatural?
Not Mary
No
Not Mary
About the Creator
Meg El
I am a young, married woman. A free-spirited creative who wants to spread more love around the world. I frequently write what seem to be excerpts from a book I've never written. I hope you can enjoy these little pieces of random thought.
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