It was all perfect…perfect…JUST perfect. He had never felt anything as beautiful as this before.Never felt anything that would so completely suffuse his entirety with the essence of another human being.
Each time, however, she would bring her face down in a moment of intense passion to meet his mouth, all he could see was the same face lowered in the exact same angle over the one she had loved before. Yes, this is how she moves when in love, he thought…whenever in love, he visualised.
This is how she clings to the shoulder in ecstasy.
This is how she closes her eyes when kissed.
This is how she arches languorously when caressed.
This is how she daintily traces the contours of her lover’s arms with the tip of her fingers…
And suddenly he no longer was part of the making of love. He was a voyeur to her past.
A puppet participant.
No comments:
Post a Comment