I did it…

I calculate how long it would take to cover your body with kisses.

I would pose my lips on each millimeter of your skin.

Each kiss would last one second.

It would take six hours. At least.

I would not leave out any part of your body.

I would take pleasure in doing it.

I would look at you in the eyes from time to time.

I would smile at you from time to time.

You would let me do it.

You would smile at me.

You would smile at me with your eyes.

You would kiss my hands.

You would return some of my kisses

By kissing me even longer and softer.

This would not be a dream.

As

I did it.

Eight hours.

Between talks.

Laughs.

And love.

I did cover your body with kisses.

Every inch.

You did return my kisses, each of them.

This was not a dream.

In between I remembered saying: I love…

Just “I love…” and no more words

I remembered you saying: “do you…”

And no more words.

This was not a dream.

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Wet kisses

The ground flies off

The earth quakes under my feet

The light darkens

The majestic Cathedral

Stares at us with compassion

No bells singing tonight

Nothing to celebrate

My legs shake

My body trembles

You hold me tight

We stand there

At the most romantic square in town

But for once it is all grey and melancholic

I kiss your lips

Wet of my tears

Why do you look so sad?

Because we are over

Or because tears and kisses

Are always a sad combination?

Hold the kiss

“The most attractive are not those who allow us to kiss them at once [we soon feel ungrateful] or those who never allow us to kiss them [we soon forget them], but those who coyly lead us between the two extremes.” (On love – Alain de Botton)

You two met through friends. The first time you were with ten people and him. Your connection was instant. You both forgot the outside world and started to talk to each other. It was not seduction. It was more like an exploration of a new person who might become your friend because you were so quickly connected. He was smart. Fun and charming. You set aside from the group. You took a walk with him to another area of the bar. He held your hand through the walk. It was natural. Still not a game of seduction. He smiled at your eyes. He smiled at your smile. Your friends joined you. He still held your hand. Your friends looked at you. Surprised. He did not care. He still held your hand and even pulled you a little bit closer to him to make room for your friends. He was confident in his gestures. It was awesome and beautifully under control. When time came to the moment to say goodbye, he left without asking for your phone number. You were quite surprised but not disappointed. He was too elegant for you to be disappointed. You said to yourself: “Sure I will see him again.”

And you saw him again six weeks after the first time. This time you were with seven people and him. He came and sat very close to you on the grass. Again all natural. Your thighs touched. He put his hand under your thighs. He said it warmed him up a little bit. It started to get dark and chilly. He walked home with you. He pulled his bike beside you. When you arrived at your bus stop, he held you in his arms, just like that. You stayed in his arms. Quiet and peaceful. Six minutes at least, the period of time for the next bus to come. It was indeed a bit chilly at midnight. He said: “You should call me, you know?” You did not have his number and you did not ask for it. You two will meet again you were sure. With or without his number. You became as confident as he was. He kissed you in the neck and let you enter the bus. He was the only man who could touch a woman without having to ask, without a second of hesitation. No surprise effect because it was so natural. His charm and his confidence were more than enough. You liked it. You liked the familiar feeling of floating when being with him. Nothing more than that. Nothing vertiginous. It is a very simple feeling. Unusual for you.

You saw him again the third time. This time you were with a friend and him. Dinner at your place. He became your friend. You still had a lot to discover about him. You promised yourself to explore more of his personality. His charm, his confidence and his smile stayed intact. But this time you discovered some more aspects of him: attentiveness and politeness and his very gentleman manners during the evening. You were sure you will see him again. You had his self-confidence now.

The forth time you were alone with him. He smiled in your eyes like the first time. He talked and slightly touched your knee. More than once. The kiss was still superfluous. The kiss will be for another time. You did not wait for it either. You were confident and now you were patient. You don’t need a kiss for a start. You don’t need a start. You think you just need an enduring nice and indecent proximity. And that he had given you already since the first minute he met you. And more than that, you just liked the very simple feeling of well-being while with him.

Kissing in the dark

The darkness was deathly absolute. I could not distinguish one shape or object. I could not see my own body. I could not get any sense of anything out there. I was in a great black vacuum.
I was reduced to pure concept. My flesh had dissolved; my form had dissipated. I floated in space. (Dance Dance Dance – Haruki Murakami)

The first time they kissed each other it was so dark that she had to guess and imagine the contour of his lips. But she did not care. She had observed him for days already. She could even close her eyes and still remembered by heart each feature of his face. It was still dark. They went to a birthday party in a golf club very far from the center. He was not sure about the bus changes. It was not her city so she could not help him to find the place. They got lost and when they arrived at the party it was almost finished, half of the people had already left. He said a quick hi to some people. They ordered a drink. They stayed a little while. And then they left too. They followed a very dark street. Not a soul. Not a light. No houses. All forests surrounding them. They seemed to miss the last bus. The next one was in at least one hour. It was summer. The night was at a perfect temperature. They started to kiss each other in the dark.

She had stayed with him for five days already. Every evening they watched a movie together. She sat very close to him on the couch. Sometimes their hands almost touched, then she moved away a little bit. Then she got closer again. Unconsciously or consciously, she did not think. She did not know. She seemed to respect him. And they had to finish watching the movie.

One day she went to town. She bought him a sweat shirt. That was a few hours before the birthday party at the golf club. He opened a bottle of red wine. She gave him the gift when they already drank almost half of the bottle. He said he started to be a little bit drunk. He was not used to drink that much he said. He kissed her on the cheek to thank her for the gift. A weird minute for both of them, because she kissed him back in his neck and posed her head on his shoulder for at least thirty seconds. The neck kiss was unexpected. Probably it was the effect of the wine. Usually she did not kiss someone in the neck when the person kissed her on the cheek to say thank you. She felt awkward and backed off a bit but he did not seem to notice the weirdness of her kiss. Then they left for the birthday party.

The kiss in the dark at the bus stop was the logical following of the one in the neck. The kiss they had left suspended a few hours before. The kiss that lasted for one hour until the bus arrived. No interruption until they got home.

In his room he lit a candle. A very weak glow of light. The room was as dark as the countryside where they were. She liked it. Now she could see the contour of his lips and his perfect features. They kissed until the very last glow of the candle. In the darkness they were again. Guessing and caressing the contour of their bodies this time.

A letter

You came to me at a party organized by the backstage of the festival. You asked me why I was here, was I an actress, a producer or a filmmaker? I said that I was invited here because my mother was invited in the first place. The music was loud. I could not hear everything you said. I asked you to give me your visit card instead. Then some of my friends came to us and you started to talk more to them than to me. I started to dance by myself. Later on, you said that you could not stop but looking at me from the bar and you wanted to join me and dance. You said that a guy invited me to dance a slow so you backed off several times. We left together around 4 in the morning in the same cab, with my friends and yours. My hotel was in front of yours. In front of my hotel, we all invited you to my farewell party. Farewell party with me, my best friend and my parents. You said yes.

The next evening we ran into you somewhere between a movie and another one. We said hello. I was with my parents and my best friend. You asked me if my farewell party still took place after the movie. I said yes and invited you one more time. Then we all headed to a cocktail party. You asked which was my relationship with my best friend because you came to know that we shared the same hotel room. You asked if we were together. I said that my best friend was married and had a baby a few months ago. You seemed relieved. You were shy and serious. We talked about movies more than anything else. I was myself, it means I could not be very serious and intellectual as the people in the film industry. I was there to support my mother, not for myself. Then your assistant came by and asked us to join him at a karaoke bar. The idea enchanted me. I love karaoke bar and of course the singing, just like other Asians. You were hesitant but you followed us.

The karaoke bar was tiny and smoky. People can still smoke in that country. My best friend, first thing, grabbed the microphone and sang. You smiled at him and at me. You asked me to sing with him. I said no because I did not want you to feel alone while everybody sang and seemed completely euphoric. You looked tired and I knew you did not like the ambiance. I knew you stayed because of me. I hardly looked at you. Later on you told me it was difficult to guess my intentions and desires. Truth was I did not know for myself if I wanted to be alone with you or to sing with friends. I did not look at you so that I did not have to decide with the expressions on my face. You were waiting for a signal of me. Nothing.

We left the karaoke bar very late. Everybody said goodbye to everybody but nobody seemed eager to leave right away. The handsome Lithuanian filmmaker I met a few days before passed by us. My best friend said: “hey, see, this is the guy she likes and she talked to him the whole yesterday evening”. I pretended not to hear the remark. I did not want you to know that. You asked aggressively: “Ah ok, is this your style of man?”. I pretended not to hear your question. I did not answer. Later on, you told me you were jealous because the guy was indeed handsome. I kissed you goodbye on the cheek and crossed the street to get back to my hotel. My best friend followed me. Once in front of my hotel, I turned my head to check if you too turned your head to look at me one last time. You did not.

My flight was at 8 in the morning. My best friend said to me once in the room: “Forget him, please. It was a nice evening. Let it be that way, ok?”. He turned off the light on his side and fell asleep. I took the hotel stationary, went to the bathroom, stayed in there, sat on the floor. I wrote to you a letter. I gave you my email address, my phone number and asked you to contact me back in Europe. Then I got ready to leave the room. Exhausted but very determined with my letter.

Before I left to the airport, I gave the concierge the letter. I told him to bring it to you personally the same morning and not to send it because I knew you were leaving just one day after me. The concierge had a hard time to understand me. He said he could not bring it to you because it was not possible, it was not part of his job. I was exhausted. My bus to the airport was already there. I took the letter, crossed the street and ran to the lobby of your hotel. I left it to the concierge of your hotel.

Two days later, you wrote to me. You received my letter. You said if I did not write the letter, we would have left each other with my three formal goodbye kisses. You would never know what to do really after the karaoke bar. You would never know how to intervene in order to break the complicity I had with my best friend and keep me all for yourself that night. You said your goodbye kisses were clumsy and desperate with no hope but they were not cold as I said in my letter. You said without my letter, you would have missed an opportunity to live the rare beauty of an encounter, especially after having been so close to me and that moment but not being able to seize the opportunity. You said that we were close and far away at the same time in this karaoke bar because fear invaded you and incomprehension made you completely passive. But with my letter, we had passed from desires to reality. My letter gave birth to our story.

You own me that one. Today I still don’t know if it was a good or bad idea to write the letter. I just know that you own me one. A big one.