THE OBSESSIVE FASCINATION

ese three words which have the power of striking in the chest: "I leave you." I said them, I assure you. Quite loud even, in the hope that he hears them and accepts them.

hours of glory, my hours too, where I collected his sweat escaping from our desire combined in a double voice. But, precisely, I w

rstand. Where are our damp sheets, our sticky body, our throat

why? Why justify this unbearable pleasure felt when your sweet tongue wandered between what I have most faithful, what keeps me company from morning to late at night? Why did I shout seven times without restraint? This breath

te agent costume gave him another form of refinement. I thought he was hiding a dark secret from me. I wanted to question him, shake his tie, tear it, yell at him, tell him to reveal to me what he was trying to hide from me. I came home. Believe me. I wis

ze, judge, lecture, even when you slip up. But tell me, why did I slip? Paul would appeal to any mother-in-law. Paul is one of those men you can count on when Kleenex is lacking, and the supermarket is double-locked, and the cashier s

ppiness. They saw the whiteness of his teeth and the shadow of my dimples but remained cloistered in incomprehension. How could two young people run in the cool dawn without even feeling the cold tickle their nostrils? The pink of cheeks did not come from the coldness of the season but the richness of our emotions. Our love was bursting with power. It was a beautifu

fair. Just admit that I played and got trapped. But tell me, why did I acce

estions again and I am waiting for answers that I will not have because you are far away. Y

raid Paul will guess my thoughts, even if basically I think that would help matters. Everything would

re alert, more connected. Fiasco! The fine lingerie, I took it off immediately after observing myself in the mirror. No, it's not me, I whispered to myself. I can not. It's dishonest and dishonesty would kill me. I don't want to kill