His eyes glued to the screen
…and the awaited scene unravelled.
The waif-like body of a fair-skinned Jewish brunette was in a state of undress,
Conspired to fornicate with the German gentleman.
Between the beautiful yet tragic story the movie must have held,
Its nudity and sex scenes ruined my chances of savouring it.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious was
the sight she flaunted,
Musical chords echoing in the silence of the night ensued later as their bodies endlessly gyrated.
I, on the other hand drowned out the ignominious pandemonium,
Dismayed.
Suddenly I felt him clutching my hands
And I remained silent, frigid.
No intimacy from me will he get.
I felt betrayed as his eyes lingered to the repetition of the intimate scene.
I used to be jealous in moments like this.
However I can only despair for I cannot tell a grown man how I despised his watching these sorts of things over and over.
I guess I was done, too tired of complaining, too tired of explaining for I cannot control a grown man’s actions.
He will do what he deems right
And I will just pretend that I saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing.
So if you’re reading this, pardon my unresponsiveness.