Tunisian perfume

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


I recently passed by this quote " Wine is good, kings are better, women even more so, but above all is the truth." Inspired by this quote and consuming some courage boosters like a bottle of wine,
a new pair of reading glasses and some good smoking material, I finally deiced to share the truth that struggles inside my heart for quite some time about a forbidden love that seems impossible to
be achieved.

Submitted: December 29, 2017

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Submitted: October 09, 2017

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 It all started on a  rooftop

 

 

In a cold February midnight, a one year younger version of me moves slowly her body on a folkloric mix of drums and pan flute. I have my eyes closed and let myself taken on a glorious mystical journey by the voice of the singer, a great lady that no longer exists physically, but her voice remains eternal remarkable. My mind reaches that exaltation and burst of happiness which only music can give me when time stops and nothing else in the world matters more than listening and moving towards what I hear, embracing the calm in the middle of the madness.  The music changes and the crowd, the smell of sweat combined with alcohol make me urge for a breath of fresh air and a cigarette so I'm making my way through the congested sea of people, some of them caught in the rhythm of music, some of them trying to grab me to join, some resting their substance abused bodies and minds on the side.  I reach the rooftop guarded by red steamy lamps meant to protect us from the cold air, I take a few breaths of fresh winterish air trying to clear my mind from the alcohol and then I spot him sitting on a chair aside and enjoying his beer. I feel this magnet pulling me towards him and before my mind could decide, my body is already sitting across him. 

I am probably blabbering one of my usual jokes because I hear him laughing and a happy feeling electrifies me entirely at the sound of his laugh. I pull out my tobacco and start rolling a cigarette with still unexperienced movements after almost one year of rolling, but I like the feeling of creating something from my own hands every time. I light my cigarette and I sit confidentely in his lap. I have a strong desire to kiss him, to let go of my hedonistic urges and share my lips and my whole existence with this person that I hardly know socially, but I feel like I know him from a different era. My mind is resiting at the thought of my boyfriend who is waiting me 1000 miles away and whom I love tremendously, but I console myself saying that a kiss means nothing and I should act upon my instinctual behaviour and jump into emotion. So I kiss him. We emerge our lips and it feels like emerging our souls into one eager to taste and absorb more and more of each other until stars will start to explode above us like lighting spiders. The only stars that are exploding are in our eyes, our excited dilated pupils of two strangers that are trying to convince themselves of the meaningless of the act. How wrong we can be and what liars with ourselves! Of course, there will be more because we cannot deny the attraction between us even if we are interrupted by a random friend to go back to the party. 

We distance ourselves from each other with mixed blurry feelings of reality, alcohol, sexual attraction and we go back to the unconscious of the idea of our futures will combine again at some point or not. 

 

To be continued or not?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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