From you I learnt those whimsical mots d’expression, learnt to break through the iron shell of circumspection asphyxiating my soul in order to bring to surface these internal manifestations of the self. It was from your fountain of desire, your bacchic lips that I drank furiously. I thirsted and you surfeited. You inspired me to liberate the fanciful phrasings that now color my speech. Oh I am terribly fascinated with you sir! I love you so! Muah! You are whimsical and fanciful, tantamount to sheer ecstasy. You took my breath away, fed the fire of my life.
Hey Pretty!
Oh hey you!
I’m drunk!
I know! And you smell!
I know!
Hullo!
Hullo Beautiful!
Hah you’re quite fanciful to-night.
Oh aren’t I always?
Quite so! But you reek of smoke!
Oh and I taste it too!
Your body sprawled across horizontal to mine, your head rested on my lap. My face hovers over yours, and with profundity my eyes inhale you, as I learn again the sketch of your face. Though your eyes melt into the darkness of the night, the traces of honey sparkle through. And we dream though we are to lose, though we dream of different things. And through puerile gestures, saccharine smiles – quite deceptive of the desire waiting to break out – you reach up and kiss me. Giving to my lips the touch and taste of yours, suffused with tobacco, alcohol and carnal passion. Recoiling from the shock, I feel myself come alive. The rage burns! I’ll teach you to rage!