The Woman

He liked the woman

He liked the way she looked,

The way she combed her hair and the perfume she wore.

He liked the way she would be waiting for him at night

With a glass of gin, in the dark

And she would always offer him one.

He liked the way she looked dressed and naked

He liked the way she saw things and the way she spoke.

He hated his job, his bosses, and the people around him

He hated the bus rides, the dirty streets

The jokers and the cursed

He hated how easily dreams could fall away and show nothing but weakness

The weakness that was exposed in him and in others

He hated the endless coffee

The endless eating even when he wasn’t hungry

He hated his face when it was shown in pictures.

But she was different. Like a fire in a cold place

He liked her.

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