The Ritual
On nights like this, when the quietness hangs over the city, almost like an unfulfilled penitence, and the deep silence has besieged our lives with its insurmountable cotidianity, I hold tight your body, very close, and whisper in your ears beautiful promises, like then. I pronounce the words with that cadence of desire postponed and yearning, with that urgency coming from the unavoidable need of the skin, unbearable, and I say never, love, forever, sweetness, frenzy, only you, God… And as I am sinking into the longed-for pleasure reached, I turn on myself and the silence of the night returns with its blanket of darkness, leaving upon our sweat the dead burden of our lives already forgotten of themselves, and seems to whisper too, not words, but one word, just one, like an echo repeating itself towards the infinity of this inminent ritual: lie, lie, lie, lie…
