The same black dress, the same red lips, high heels, and careless hair left on the back. You walk resolutely, you don't look left or right. You know that the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. You always have them for others.
You don't even know how he hates himself. But you know how to be indifferent. You know how to smile in the corner of his mouth, moisten his lips lightly, look him in the eye and offer him without restraint. You bite your lips as if you want to say something. You don't do it anymore, why waste time when you know that the future for you does not exist.
Let the light on, the music play and the clothes fall. Only the masks remain in place. The woman he loves has long since disappeared, but he is too blind to see, too deaf to hear, too paralyzed to feel. Before you belong to him, you know that you belong to him. You know that the two do not last forever, you know that this two is just a white night that disappears at the first ray of sunshine. You know. He knows?
You feel his hands writing memories under your skin, you feel his kiss and you know you like the taste, you feel how your lips hurt, but before screaming you prefer to be silent and enjoy the moment. You look at him intently, you move slowly around the room and you smoke dullly from a cigarette. You know what's coming, and he knows, but no one is doing anything. You lie down on the desk, drink from a glass full of regrets and you realize that everything is wrong and yet you decide to do it. Lost gaze on the ceiling, rolls of smoke running in all directions, his gaze on your body and your indifference to his touches.
You know how to get what you want and you can't wait to get it. A look to receive him completely, another that would make him run away from the world. Yes, you have always liked clothes that you can easily get rid of. Fate made you get rid of them only with soul assassins with whom you committed suicide. You know he wants you, and you want him. You look at him and say, "Take me now." That's when you know you become prey from a predator. That is the moment when you feel that everything on you is too much, that any trace of lucidity is wrong and that any principle does not make sense after you turn off the light.
That is the moment when your body teaches you in the dark, when the sweet smell makes more than a thousand looks and the way you breathe helps it to lift you to the ninth heaven. That's when his hands would like to tear you in two, his palms cause more pleasure than pain, and your hair is better held in his hand than in a hairpin.
You feel harmless when he breathes under you, when he asks you to be his, when he asks you firmly or when he takes you by force because you just want to tease him. Merge with each other you know that you will both be left without a piece of soul when the morning comes, but until then there are enough hours that will turn into unwritten memories. The fact that you don't see him makes you look for him, the fact that you feel your skin kneaded by him makes you want him all over, the fact that you can't see through him makes you want him anywhere and anyway.
Soft is too soft and hard is too hard. Sweet kisses go wild, and caresses become primitive touches. You know you don't care about flowers if it makes you feel like a woman. You know it's a night when you don't need a soul but just a high pulse. You know you have the power just to let him hold you for one night. You know that today you forget about wounded souls and that the only thing that can be exhausted is only your body, and he knows that at the first ray of sunshine your knees must tremble, not the cigarette in the hands of nerves.
Morning is just a time when you both realize that you fucked your universe just like you never imagined it would happen.
