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.