But then... something happens... and in the loneliness and the darkness of the night... I whisper her name... and like a predator in the night I listen for the echos to come back to me... I stumble in the black and the empty and the cold of my corridors sniffing for traces of memories that know not these dwellings... I search for her scent... for the talcum powder... and perfume... her breath covered in coffee... her hair buried in spices... her lips... hiding behind lemon peels... I hunt for her like Azrael tracks a wayward soul that refuses to go back home... like a legionnaire crawling through the mud in pursuit of his papers of freedom... I chase her in the stillness and the quiet and the forgotten hour of my madness... for a simple... tiny... insignificant sign... that perhaps... if she is at all inclined... in that far away place in which she dwells... she remembers that she once promised me love eternal... kisses and wishes without end.... desire without a price and loyalty without question... does she remember that I cared for her... that I looked out for her and protected her... that I changed my world for her and built my life for her... does she remember that I shed my armor for her... I peeled of the past for her and lived only in the moment with her... that I let go of my fears for her and the regrets of the life I abandoned before her... does she remember that I climbed out of a nest of dragons for her... and... when she slipped through the grip of some drunken demon... I was the one that caught her... and hid her away... and bartered what was left of my soul... for a few moments more with her... one last breath for her... one more heart beat for her... one more kiss from her... a whisper... a sigh... the taste of the salt... from a tear of her eye... but then... something happens... and I find myself alone... on the floor... making deals with the devil... in the blindness and the deepness and the overpowering calmness... the unostentatious elegance of these moments of the night...
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2 comments:
Your details are amazing. You describe the scent of a woman, the taste of her mouth, the taste of her tears. I'm impressed. No wonder you make women feel beautiful.
I am noticed by men often. I'm not bragging--it just happens. But my husband . . . I sleep in just my pretty panties almost every night because I like the feel of the sheets and covers against my skin. He is seldon phased by it and this bothers me. It just does.
I am a scoundrel... but I am not without passion...
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