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Showing posts from September, 2016

Fragment - πυρομανής

His love is hot like the fires in the mountains that separate our countries. It is not the heat of a moment. It is not passion.
His love is hot. Real hot, like the piercing pain of burn marks and needles through your skin. It's a heat that comes from inside his twisted brain. It's the heat of blood flowing through the purple veins that map the lumps of contracting muscles and flawless olive skin.
He does not understand pain. He does not...
He does love.
His love is a nasty, sadistic fire that leaves behind ash, real scars...and worse:memories.

Many returns!

He ties my shoelaces.
I've had a few cocktails tonight. My head feels light like a feather. My soul could fly. And it does. It flies all the time. I have so much fun.
My manicure barely dry. My hands are thankful of him for tying my shoelaces. But my head still rejects, that speedy beat in my heart.
He loves me!
I know that he does because he fills my glass with amaretto and jack and a straw the colour of which, matches my mood.
He wears black. I like black.
He is warm. I like warmth.
I know that he loves me because, I told him to go away and he didn't. Instead opened his arms. His chest became an ocean where many times I drowned my memories, and the pain in my heart.
His chest, the ocean, where many times I swam, in dreams, towards calm and happy waves, in the sunny place of our friendship.
He calls me beautiful, when I change my hairstyles, and patiently picks a dress out of the many I parade before a night out.
He knows I will be late, everytime, because he's waiting an…