Lover In The City

Yes he's here. Meeting me tonight. No. I am meeting him tonight. It has been long since I last saw him. Talked to him. I am not really excited that I am meeting him tonight, although it was my idea that we meet up. There is nothing special with this meeting. But who knows.

I should have stopped addressing him Lover because he's not my lover. But he's a lover whom I always wanted to be my lover. Silent. But not really. Mysterious because he plays his part well; that someone who loves being solved. Condescending as he is intelligent. And sexy. Intelligent. Sexy. Intelligent. Sexy. Intelligent. Sexy. Intelligent. Sexy. And I am not copy-pasting "Intelligent. Sexy.", you know.

In case you don't know him, let me introduce to you Lover once again. He's the one whom I saw walking ahead of me like a god. He once was my god. And the drizzle agreed.

He was the reason why one cold night, while we were inside a decrepit but comforting hut, became too unbearably long, moving slowly to give way to light as I lay, wide awake, almost all the time, beside him, listening to him snore, wandering how his body welcomed the damp.

And yes, he, too, was the object of that fleeting sensation down my crotch that same night. It was so quick. Quicker than what that brief and spontaneous orgasmic bliss. Lying flat on my back, he took the pain down his crack, slowly as beads of his sweat landed on my chest. Too bad it was just a dream.

Now, how can I be blamed?