Habitual Behaviour (or Hb)

Scratching away at the surface

As he’d been born to do

He dragged his head back & forth over her skin

Barely skimming the surface.

“You constantly mark me” she’d said

He’d explained it’s because no matter how he felt at any moment

They were destined to be this way.

Him drawling over her

Expressing his feelings any way he could

Depending on which way he was being pushed.

& she, the blank canvas

On which was displayed his undulating feelings of life.

Sometimes, he felt too blunt

Others like he pressed her too hard

Still others he felt as if he’d draw strength from her whilst he drew her into his world.

But then

That is

The push & pull of most relationships

The shape of their union

But life would never be dull for them

The being, the very fibre of the paper

Who was drawn into a pencil’s life