Red Scars Shimmer on Your China Skin

We were alone, under that immense sky. Your mouth was big, ravenous, almost obscene under those candid stars. It was cold and the grass stung at my skin, around the neck. But I didn't care. Because your weight crushed me to the ground, your weight so familiar, so reassuring. And while your icy hands crept under my sweater, I remembered. I remembered all the past winters, all the others times making love with you was like this. Impelling, absurd, necessary. And without opening my eyes, without counting them, I remembered your tattoos, your moles, the wonderful little imperfections that lived in your body.
Then you interrupted my train of thought. - Turn- a request, an order. I sat on my knees, gasping, panting, flushing. And you stripped me of my pants and underwear, without a lot of rigmarole. You entered me without asking permission. I felt a sharp pain and then you crawling, back and forth inside me. And I couldn't not enjoy that pain, that is necessary for our love. Necessary as each thrust, every kiss wet of saliva on the neck, behind the ears. Necessary like each of your chocked “I love you” and your fingers clung to my flesh, as if I were your last salvation. That pain which was then transformed into your cry of joy, mine cry.

- What are you laughing?- You ask me. You have a steaming cup of coffee on your hand. You’re leaning against the kitchen counter and watch me with curiosity. I, on the other hand, I'm on the chair trying to finish a melody. I smile even more. It’s so natural, so simple.
- So?-
- Nothing…-
- C’mon…- you take another sip of your coffee.
- I was thinking about yesterday- and your smile, so bright and full to uncover all your teeth, melts me like ice in the sun.
Let the coffee cools in the cup, while in the other room we sparks.