Paradigm

Paradigm She imagines you’re attracted to her glow, her energy, her aura. She imagines you see the woman shaped by parents, molded, treasured, wrapped and gifted to the world. You imagine how she would look naked. You imagine how soft her breasts must be, resting on a strong abdomen, protection for butterflies that live there and awaken with your touch. You imagine her holding a scale to weigh her self-worth. Eyes searching yours, hungry for approval. You imagine yourself painted into her unfinished self-portrait, hushed tones of two lives melded. You imagine your hands on her fragile back bordered by soft, round shoulders, supported by twin columns of muscle. You imagine yourself a tattoo on her spine that curves all the way down to the separation of fleshy mounds. Imagine your surprise as she walks away. Hips gently swaying, see-saw motion of shoulders, and the mole just under her left shoulder blade winking goodbye.