You know what the most terrifying consequence of a relationship like ours is? Hope.
That absurd creation of unnecessary expectations, even when reason slaps you in the face and shows you proof of your mistake. And in that moment when you realize that it is a perfect trap you feel a cut open in your stomach and you give birth to another you, but with the wrong shadow.
Five minutes, you wrote. And I could not choose. Fate gives you only one chance and condenses it into a single exceptional moment, too brief for anyone. But not for us.
Two perfect strangers, two wild reckless people who met by the sea in need of wind and wet kisses. A Taersìa of the senses, an upheaval of the soul that breaks the dams of scornful surrender.
I discovered the pain of loving and learned to love that pain. I breathed in the light of your liquid eyes, I touched your scent and tasted your skin. I can’t have been wrong.
You made me quiver and tremble, and then pray. Pray that it would not end.
Pray that it would.