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It's not our first time, and maybe it's the last time. But the taste still lingers like it was the first time we did it. It's always sweet, doing it with you. With your sweet and gentle gaze in my eyes, your delicate cheeks seem to cry out to be kissed by my thin lips. Your blue eyes draw me into a strange, calming silence. But why, with every movement that fills my body, and my sweaty skin, can I not see my reflection in the depths of your eyes?
I have long been asleep in those bright blue eyes, in a dream that never ends. Sometimes I want to scream to stop, but why do my feet keep chasing something that isn't mine? Or is it our paths that keep meeting but never cross, and I just keep trying to cross even though you didn't want me around? I let that cruelty seep into my bones like the pain that fills my stomach with nausea and the tightness that makes me dizzy. And it feels like I'm so used to that pain that I can't even let you go—like a vessel searching for its parasite.
“Oscar.” With a gasping voice, that soft voice pulls me back. Letting myself go from all my thoughts and betraying all my morals. With a beautiful, sweaty face and messy lips, you look up at me as if I were your god whom you must worship—but right in the center of your lens, I find a strange, terrifying coldness that always I long for. I endure it like a thirsty man in the savannah, as if you were the only thing that mattered, no matter how dirty it was.
“Yeah, Kak Ge…. Keep going…..” I replied, barely able to speak. The desire cannot be deceived every touch of yours ignites a fire within me. It makes me want to hold you tighter, to hold on a little longer—so I can figure out how long the host will endure the parasite?
My hands traced every red mark I had made in anger, decorating your graceful neck, adorning your pale, cold skin. But you were always like that, simple and flawless—as if you would never let anyone see behind your gorgeous face and your strangely cold, pale skin.
Your cold hands are now busy caressing my back and drawing strange, thin patterns. The cold hands I always worry about, the ones I used to kiss and you would laugh at me for thinking of you as a Greek god worth fighting for—but what if you really are?
I can feel you moving beneath me, searching for something to ease the heat within your body. While I search for something to ignite my own heat. Pushing all your boundaries just to satisfy myself and see your true self. To own you completely.
Between our pressed-together skin, I can see you more clearly. The you I long to love more deeply—yet you never allowed me to. Your deep, vivid blue eyes enchanted me into a dreamless sleep. Your scent fills this bed, wherever my nose tries to sniff, it only catches the scent of your perfume and your body, intoxicating me. A longing that can never be paid for with anything, even if Zeus' heart were devoted to me.
Your beautiful smile at that moment brings back memories that should never have existed. Memories that should never have been engraved in me, like Donatello carving every inch of memory into my narrow mind. Memories like moving photos of your slight and gentle smile, how you always smiled freely at my jokes that were never funny. Or your slight smile when I asked for your hug, also the sweet annoying smile that you would always prepare when we finished making love—with coffee in your hand and a towel wrapped around your body fondly.
Your unpredictable nature gives me a puzzle full of questions with no real answers. I want to unravel all the secrets in you, every key in your mind and heart. But who am I? Just a place to seek warmth and comfort.
And when desire reaches its zenith and your breath catches in your throat, I hold you close, letting you feel my anger one last time, Let you endure my anger one more time, this shameful pity for myself that lingers within you, even though it will eventually fade away sooner or later. But I want to hold on, even though it's impossible. So let my anger remain within you, so that I don't feel the terrible tightness that fills my chest every time I feel upset with you.
“Kak Ge... You look so pretty,” I say without a trace of a lie as the moonlight, which is not as unashamed as I am, bathes your skin. Between the breaths I waste, I hope that every word rattling around in my head will unravel like the yarn you often knit in your spare time. So that we can stay together, clinging to each other like parasites seeking their own lives. Behind the brown eyes that stare at you intently, I hope you find every word that is difficult for me to say.
And among the times that have passed, I hope there will be a time when you see me, and I can convey this suffocating feeling. Even if my whole life is the price. I hope that among the destinies written in the palm of God's hand, there is a destiny for us, even if it doesn't end the same. And the shame that burns your heart and the pain that crushes my chest will stop, even if I have to pay with my entire life, just so I can watch you again. But, forget it. Will our paths cross, or won't we?