Narcotic Love – A Journey in the mind of the Scriptwriter

Rings of smoke
Flying through the air
A whiskey flavor lingers in my mouth
My beard is coarse
My feet inside some random slippers rest
The bathrobe on the side
Stows her smell
We pose afront a warming fireplace
The cracking of a vinyl melody
Makes perfect tone for such a rainy night

If only she were mine,
I’d have her here with me
On top my desk
Instead of books and pens
I’d read her body
A million fantasies to be told
Legs apart
From head to toes
So soft and thin
Damp and soggy from the rain
I’d study her from within
A million lessons to be learned
From heart to soul
So pure and kind
Untouched by all the evil in this world

If only she were here,
I’d help her hang her furry coat
Set aside her necklace made of pearls
Untie the ribbon on her hair
Unbuckle her vest and reach towards her skin
I’d peel her from her covering
Like chocolate from a wrap
I’d melt her on my chest and arms
And pour us both into a flask
Until we dry across the fireplace
We harden in a soft embrace

I’d lay with her
Under the rain
Alone and complete
Without shame
Like children again
We wash and play
Nothing is more truthful than the rain

If only she could stay,
I’d set her on my bed
A thousand pages with its sheets I’d write
A thousand rainy nights
To quench our thirst
And when the dawn breaks with its light
We’d morph into a summer haze
The smoke, the scotch, my prickly beard
My reading glasses, my books, my pens
They never mattered
And so I lose again

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