She had no voice. He yelled at her when she complained that she could not sleep with a leg on her. It was her mistake , she was light. For years she accepted any touch as love. Any hurt as “more love” .  Her hour glass figure irritated him. She ate as he forced her , soon she could only fit in to XXL. This did not please him either. This was “unlove” it dawned after a trying decade. At the end of the tunnel “they” said, she was infidel for writing poetry an ode to illusion .

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