It’s night again, and I can’t get you out of my mind. I want to call you; after all, what are nights for if not to say and do what can’t be done during the day? Half a bottle of wine later, all that lingers on my palate is desire. I fall asleep, and like every night, I dream of you. Yes, I enjoy it, but I prefer to be awake, to see you, to be close, and to play that game of locking eyes that sends shivers down my spine.
It’s morning, I see you, and I wonder: How does a simple «hello» dramatically change the color of your cheeks? Have you ever felt like swimming against the current? That’s how I feel when I try to contain the longing I always have for you.
In the afternoon, I become prey to insecurity, and I start to think that you don’t feel the same way. But then you look me directly in the eyes, say something, and finish the sentence biting your lip; quickly you turn your gaze away, but I know you’re sneaking a glance at me, and a smile forms on your face. It’s as if you know that at that moment, I’m turning into a wild beast, that my pupils dilate, and my breathing quickens. I try to catch my breath in a mix of suffocation and pleasure. What is a game you obviously enjoy is torture for me.
It’s night again, and I can’t get you out of my mind…
Mixpov 