Alessio recalls a woman, a time when guilt was not a thing to be considered, when intimacy struck a chord in both minds, both hearts. He lifted a hand to be placed on her thigh, and then pawed a soft stroke across it. Like a sailor waiting for a wind, alike a gentle sigh, to move his boat across open waters, it was much like this. Much like how Alessio’s hand runs across her thigh, runs across like a boat upon the surface of water, and raises just a portion of the fabric to her dress above her ankle.
She blew a fragrance, sweet as the sound of it, to the openness about her. Lovely and lively, was this moment between the two. But truth was about to be spilled from flesh, torn through with pairs of eyes, and cut through with multiple caresses.
It is indeed a spectacle of lust, for our beholding. Truth is enveloped by eyes, love is no more for the moment, and each secret is given. How does seduction work? All submit to the word, itself. Words are whispers, when heat embodies bodies. Breath is wind, and a house called a body or form, is never defending itself against the storm. Love transforms into lust, and in Alessio’s recollection, her coldness from a Southern end, from an arctic, melted of all its glaciers and snow.
He landed another kiss to each eyelid, and two more to each cheek. He landed four more to each lip of hers, before riding the current of her repeated breath with one elongated kiss. One kiss, that flew into time.