In Vino Veritas

Like any true fantasy, my eyes at first only notice the sudden colour in the crowd of grey before I see you take a seat quite near me, your shirt ocean blue, as if you are tempting me into the depth of your pool of greatness. I tear my eyes away to try and remember what it was I was doing before you stunned me into awareness. Mere moments pass before I cannot help but turn my attention to you once again. Intrigued as to this mystical power you exude, I move towards you involuntarily. My body a slave to a will much stronger than what my mind can control.

I say hello like it is the most natural thing to do. My soul realises that the moment my eyes lock with yours, there is no hope for survival. Yet, I’m not a cat, so curiosity does not suffer death as consequence. I summon all the courage I can to overcome my heart’s lack of self-assurance.

Within seconds your eyes pin my soul against the walls of my being and I am sure you must hear me gasp. My senses know this feeling – detach now! my mind screams at my fickle heart. My synapses fire off hard hitting deterrents built into me like a barracks of fortitude designed by my own wounded heart. It takes sheer seconds for me to jump up and listen.

With a lingering sense of regret I move on, move away. Yet the powers that be are not so easily amused by the strength of mere mortals, and it takes but minutes before I find myself yet again in your precarious company. A cat has nine lives after all, and one must be twice bitten before becoming shy…

We talk, and in you I find a counterpoint of my own character. Now, I’m no romantic – life has seen to it that such frivolous traits are banished to a time and place long since left behind. Meeting you was more like having the first sip of a glass of incredibly good wine – it is only the tantalising foundation being laid for the rest of that drink and even though you know you’ll wake up with a headache, you’ll be damned if you don’t take that next sip.

Somewhere in between discussions about nothing and everything, your hand reaches out to mine, intertwining my fingers in yours. My body is shocked awake as if from some deep winter hibernation and the only thought that pulses through my veins is that of your lips finding mine. Experience has taught me that a single kiss from an untrained mouth can obliterate want, but it is a warning of a good kind that I sense. All at once I know the end of me (you kiss me).

It is not that it is passionately pleasurable to an extent where my yearning lust for you rings in my ears and warms the blood pulsating through every part of my body (which it is), but that it is alarmingly comfortable, like you have never not kissed me before. The deception that is blurred with harsh fact is obliterated by your arms which envelope my troublesome mind to leave me at peace, if only for a moment.

I am enslaved, enthralled, entangled, enjoying the front row seat to your affection. A single look from your eyes, a single whisper from your heart to mine, makes the last of the ramparts of my resistance crumble. I succumb to the fleeting moments of feeling everything…

The wanderings of our bodies and minds sink you deeper into me in a wanton need for more – more exhilaration, more ease, more intrigue, more intelligence, more you, more me, more wine…Until I feel the unwelcome sting of reality that lurks with the morning sun into my bedroom window and shatters my fantasy land.

Sure as daylight, I have a headache. It is painful, but not regrettable nor incurable and I know that I will intrepidly look forward to the next glass of good wine…

 

                                                                                       

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