red feathers

I never thought that it would have been so difficult for me lying next to you, without being able to touch you. This is what you ask me and it is too much now. The picture of you in my mind fires me up and every time I close my eyes you are there to turn this show on, leaving me hopeless behind when the reality comes to take me back.

How long do you need to sleep to create a dream?
that's what makes me constantly doubt that it could be something different, more an hallucination or the beginning of madness.

Still drunk of last night, still burning of your touch, I dream of you again.

you are sitting in a bed surrounded by veiled curtains.

your hands are giving shape to a piece of dark clay, you keep on changing it, your hands sink into the clay and you finally realize I am there, looking at you in silence.

"come here...I was waiting for you" you show me the place next to you with your hand, I come and seat at your side.

"I am tired of doing this, without being able to find my shape" you say.
"Boris, I can't tell you more than I do. Can you sort this out for yourself?"

I don't understand what you say but for myself I know what you mean.

Now you are lying down your head on a pillow made of read feathers.

"Don't you hate feathers?" you ask me curious.
"Not if they are crimson" I reply.

I touch your lips with my fingertips.

"You shouldn't do this. you make me want things I have to deny"

I get up, ready to leave
you pull my sleeve.
"Please stay. You know I would like things to be different"
"I want to protect you"
"You can't protect me from myself"

You are at my back holding me tightly. I feel your excitement and I try to ignore my own.
"I've got to go" I say
'Don't let me go' I think
"I won't leave you" you reply, reading my thoughts, as always.

You take me back on the bed , crimson crows all around are watching insensitive.
I place a kiss on your chest, following those kisses down with caressing hands. You moan low and tender.
"I don't want you to stop, Bo, really I don't fucking want you to stop".
I don't want to stop.
I want to feel your burning cold again.
I want to taste you.
You are not opposing resistance and your body is calling me.
you feel so cold to my lips.
A cold wind is coming inside from a window I don't see.

"I feel cold" I tell you
the scene changes and now you are the one leading the game, I am, once again, the one begging you.
And the movements of your body charms me, so that I can't remember I had promised to myself to hold back and forget this desire, dragging us away from reality.

For how long? tell me...for how long am I going to be able to dream of you?
For how long will you be there to wait for me in this golden cage we closed ourselves into?

While I wake up I bite my lip, the pain will help me to break this magic.
You are not in this room, only the cold and the sound of the pouring rain are.

Time to resume reality.