the usual allegories of sex and superficial desire infested our walk home and carried on through dinner (leftovers from saturday). the afternoon melted into early evening, and by nightfall we had passed the point of simple lust and casual innuendo, and the conversation started to take on a more interesting guise. a metamorphose of exhausted reflections into intertwined lacy thoughts. i was obsessed with the words she used to describe the world; stripped down to its bare essentials, this was the world i had since long forgotten. wondering, but not questioning, what it was that kept us alive. under the influence of one too many bottles of wine, she confessed; yes, everything i had told her not to do, she did now, a thousand and one times every night.