Two glasses of whisky in a round table, big enough to hold plates but not enough to hold all the cards we’re hiding.
We’ve been playing word games for a while now, not trying to lead the conversation anywhere but hoping we could meet at the same place in the other end of it.
We’re pretending we don’t know what we’re doing , but we do….
The light touch of your hand on my knees, my fingers sliding through yours…
Can we blame the bottle of wine we just had?
I take your face in my hands, and stare deep in your eyes and I talk slowly because my brain is refusing to put words out of my mouth.
You’re looking back at me. In my eyes… and then my lips ; And then we look each other and I’m quite sure the bartender felt like an extra accessory in the room , like an extra button to a well-tailored suit.
You’re well tailored for my soul.
I recognised your soul from many moons ago.
(After all, you said you’re the male version of me.)
I’ve always had a weak spot for strong men. Men that change the room with their presence but I never had met someone who made every single one of those other people disappear, just by standing in front of me.
And yet, there you are.
Your energy is so calm and yet electric.
Gives me peace and troubles at the same time.
Removes the roof of the place, but gives me chills to death…
You’re strong and powerful. But not cold. You’re not distant and you look at me as something you’ve known for quite some times. And I feel it.
I felt it in the first 30 seconds when your hand touched my back as I sat down.
I felt so comfortable in your presence that made me wonder if I ever met you before?
Maybe I have. Because right now, when you’re in front of me it feels like all memories of my life that given me same feeling are playing a playback to me …
The day I wore the perfect dress out and a random woman complemented me even though I didn’t meet anyone I knew.
The morning I just straighten my hair but the rain started and a stranger offered his umbrella and saved the day.
The day I woke up at 6 am in an African sunset even though there was no one to share it with, except the ocean.
The night a local helped to find the way in Bangkok even though I was walking around scared.
The day my mom and my dad had a fight but then they both brought ice cream home …
Every single bittersweet memory of mine, came back to life , just right those seconds, when my eyes met yours and the feelings got mixed with alcohol and I was drunk.
You touch my hands, your fingers are now holding mine and in my stomach I don’t have butterflies. I have bees. They’re fighting it all.
They’re screaming and are being loud inside my head now.
What’s so sexy about the forbidden?
Now there are no more hidden cards. We’ve placed them all on the table.
The glasses of whiskey are both empty and the ice cubes are standing still.
You pull me closer, put your scarf around my neck and your hands around my waist.
Is it cold? – you ask.
I smile. Don’t you know the answer? -I think to myself.
I’m being burnt by the fire we’ve just turned on.
It actually feels like the hell’s gates are opened.
You’re a Sin. I’m a Sin.
This whole thing is so damn wrong…
But as you slide your hand on my silk dress,
We both know is sinfully good. And it feels so damn right…
This whole scenario feels like is straight out of a movie.
And the titles are about to come soon.
As my taxi drops me home, in another night alone, in my mind is still a question going on…
What’s so sensual about the forbidden after all?
©️Fiori_D (fiordalipi)
