Disclaimer: not mine.
A/N: for vordogh, one of whose icons gave me inspiration when the words wouldn't come.
Maybe We're Both Frauds
'If it makes you happy maybe we're both frauds and this is our last chance to atone.'
Maybe he was a narcissist and she a dictator.
His hands were gripping her tightly, kneading her back with his fingers.
Maybe he was a coward and she tough as nails.
Her arms were clinging to his head, her satisfied hum still in the air.
Maybe he was guilt-ridden and she decease-ridden.
He looked as if his burdens had just disappeared.
Maybe he was crazy and she hallucinating.
She sounded like she was afraid he would.
Maybe they were both frauds. But this, this was real. Maybe their lives were bleak, and empty, and false, but this right here was true, a spot of colour in the dusk that was their lives. And it was hers, while he was left with nothing but grey.
Fine