“My body is like a temple to me. I don’t allow just anybody in.” His beautiful lips formed sensuously over the words. His thin face stared down in humility and earnestness and seriousness…Oh! He was beautiful.
“I saw you and wanted you. I knew you were mine even though you were with someone else.” His caramel coloured fingers, long and smooth stretched down his thigh to his knee and his eyes, sharp, almost pretty, eyes still stared down at his fingers. My heart raced a beat at the sincerity of his beautiful voice which said these wonderful things and made me feel like a butterfly on a rose…hmmmmm. He showed me the tattoo of a part of Egypt on his shoulder.
Then he sang. Soulful in a tenor that kept going higher with the patter of my heartbeats and low with the fatal pauses. He sang his love for me. Sang his wait for me. Sang his yearning for me. I was beautiful. His eyes, staring down at his fingers placed on his knees in humility. As though he was struck by the beauty of Venus.
I loved his voice. He took himself so seriously. It was adorable.
Then we talked and talked through feelings and philosophy and poetry and Africa…I was shattered by our connection after just a day? We talked of books and ideas and religions and hopes and thoughts. I fell in love. He stared hard at his fingers still clutching his knees.
I could not bear it any longer. I moved to him and kissed him. I let him make love to me. I fell asleep by his side in exhaustion and satisfaction. His eyes were to the wall, shut intently. In the morning I left with a smile on my face. I left without saying goodbye.
He was my most beautiful liar.
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