Nobody's Fool

I refuse to be the girl who is told that her dreams are too big.

I refuse to be the girl who bows before infidels.

I refuse to be the girl with no love, no passion.

I refuse to be the girl who dies before she is born.

I am not the girl you keep on the top shelf and eventually forget about.

I am not the girl who will sugarcoat her words so it doesn't bruise your ego.

I am not the girl who will mother you till you turn into an adult.

I am not the girl who will stray.

I am not the girl with hollow thoughts, inconsequential aspirations.

I am not the girl who will back down till she finds herself.

I am the girl you fall in love with. The love remains till the day you die. If it goes away, then you perhaps never loved me at all.

I am the girl who teaches you love, grace. 

I am the girl you'll never forget.

I am the blood in your veins.

I am the beat of your heart.

I am the taste in your tongue.

I am your throbbing penis, aching for a release.

I am the void that can never be filled by someone else.

I am not extraordinary, I am not a goddess.

I am your girl.

Beautiful Stranger

He calls me beautiful and then whispers something in his mother tongue.

"I can't translate it, but you understand, don't you?"

I do.

We run our fingers through each other's bodies. My heart is beating so fast. As is his.

But slowly we're both calm like the sea.

His dog, Papouche, takes an instant liking for me.

Man, woman and dog. What a life this couldn't have been.

I want to lie in his arms and sleep forever.

Straight out of a romance novel, our adventure.

We listen to his favourite music. I play some of my favourite songs. It's beautiful, even though we don't understand a word. We don't need to. We can feel it.

We kiss. We cuddle. I want to stay with him forever. The sex is great, but it's the after that I crave for. The intimacy. I hadn't felt it for so long that I tear up a little inside.

"Don't go"

"I don't want to go" 

He's not like the last one, bruising my self confidence with endless tales of past lovers. He wears a condom. He has no erection problems. "You're so beautiful" he keeps telling me with that heavy French drawl as he moves the hair away from my face to kiss me.

He kisses my forehead. He kisses my cheeks. He gazes at me oh so lovingly.

I fall for him. I fall hard and fast. 

This is unreal.

We make love. I was expecting sex. But we make love.

He's a big man. He's a strong man. He does not resort to any fancy tricks like a sex monkey. It's traditional. It's liberating. He enters me and kisses me on the mouth. He looks right into my eyes. He makes love to me. We make endless love. 

A french lover.

My french lover.

I know I probably won't ever see him again but at this point in life, he came to me like an angel who kissed my wounds away, made me feel alive again. Made me feel woman again. Made me feel whole, so complete.

I'm done opening my legs for random middle aged men who spew bullshit from their mouths and eye me like prey.

Real men exist. Real men who are not afraid to love. Real men who's gaze isn't perpetually filled with lust.

I know now.

"Stay a little longer, I'm starting to fall in love"

"I can't. I am scared I am too.."

Curse of The Cursed

"You're beautiful"
He doesn't call me 'hot' like the last joker.
Ten points.
Ten more for that accent.
Ten more for that lean body.
His face looks beautiful under the moonlight. "You're handsome". He doesn't understand what I'm saying. Chiselled features, white supremacy.
Under the stars, by the sea.
I look at the sky. The moon makes an appearance at last.
We're sitting so close to each other. Half understanding each other's words, but fully aware of the beauty around us. The calm of the sea, the serenity of the moonlight.
He kisses me.
His arms are around me. I touch his face, feel the stubble on his chin.
"I want you"
He touches my thigh.
Oh you bloody charming French man.
He looks so gorgeous under the moonlight.
A page right out of a romance novel.
Yet I feel nothing.
Maybe I'll fuck him just to live out this fantasy, maybe I won't. I don't know.

Is this how it's always going to be? Kiss for sport, fuck for fun?
I don't want it.
I don't want any of it.
Or maybe I do.
I don't know...