The days are a constant monotony. In the end I don’t know what to think, because only when you’re not here do your memories accompany me.
I close my eyes and I can feel your hands running through me. It’s as if I could feel your hair between my fingers. I can smell you as close as when you were next to me. I want to concentrate and I can’t.
I need to finish what I’m doing, but again you’re there, whispering in my ear, scratching my back, hitting me hard and spitting in my face. As much as I read what I have in my hands, I can’t understand a single word as it becomes a blur on a white background.
I need you more than ever, I long for you with all my strength, it’s not you I want, it’s your nails between my legs that I want. I don’t care about your day, I don’t give a shit about your job, I only think of you pulling my hair while you release all your rage.
I want to suffocate you with my flesh, settle with all my weight, squeeze your neck until you have little breath left. I had never felt like this when thinking about someone, as empty as her or about god.
Your perfume instantly evokes your nakedness and the image of the strap falling on your buttocks comes to mind. It’s strange, but the memories come to me as in the third person, I see myself gagged and with my hands tied while you bite my nipples hard.
There were no complaints, just moans. There was a lot of sweat and no regrets. In the room there was a Messiah left over and it wasn’t you or me. Smells were mixed together with dirty words. Your teeth left me traces that when I see them make my heart beat harder
I want to be on my knees before you again. I want you to be the virgin to whom I direct my prayers. There is no better way to atone for guilt and sin than through this pleasant pain.
J.D.R. 15/11/11