Two Eyes Cenote marble & tooth

Once, she had belonged to many.

The politicians always had a sweet way of talking. She knew it was to convince themselves that she liked it. That it was good for her, a girl of her circumstances. She was fortunate to be with them.

But Meseba– he wasn’t like them. It was why her nose sought the downy warmth of his jaw and pressed a chaste kiss there. It wasn’t enough, she knew that. Maybe he would even find this consolation insulting.

If he touched her. If he had her. Would it be enough?

She says nothing, but steps back, throat suffocating on the words, a feeble look in the amber glaze.