. .LOST LOVE'S LAMENTATIONShe wore roses where the nipplesOf her breasts should be, and flowersFloated in her hair, and there were chocolatesStored do...wn there, among the petalsOf her soft, pink femininity, waiting to blossom,Just for me, back then, when I was youngAnd had not seen the blooms that menOffer upon upright stems, and I wanted herTo love me, to flower, just for me, once,Upon a time, way back. . . then. . . . HEDONISTIC GIRLWe seek ourselves in metaphors,Never knowing who or what we. “Well, please, don't keep me in suspenders.” “Funny, Chet. Anyway, this morning I started having premenstrual cramps.” “O...K… Forgive my stupidity, but where is this going?” “I was planning to ask if you want to have sex. I wanted it to be spontaneous. But with these cramps, I think my period is just around the corner. I am ready to have sex with you. God, I hope you are ready for me. I would feel awful if you weren't.” “Of course I am ready. I have wanted you for so long, but I didn't want. Bedroom me le gaye,me night dress change karne ja rahi thi,darling no nighty,shadishuda hai ratko koi bhi kapde nahi pehnna hai , apni office beg me se ek lifafa nikal ke diya,this is surprise, wo hamari honeymoon ke booking vouchers, air tickets, passport with visa, ek hi din me Rohanne sub kuch kar liya tha,hapte me hi hum ja rahe the,mene Rohanko apni bahome liya pyarse hothope chum liya, sari gifts di ,janeman gifts ke liye thanka lekin mujhe aur gift chahie, tumdo na do me le lunga me. Surely, it was there, I reasoned. My own pain for her, my empathetic reaction to her nearness testified to its presence. Yet, perhaps my agony came from a different source. Surely not, old man, I argued internally. “What do you intend to do?” I asked, half afraid of the answer she would give. She picked up the bottle from the table. “I intend,” she said, with just the tiniest bit of a slur beginning to affect her speech, “to finish off this bottle of your very fine whiskey. Then I shall either.