Unholy love

07/06/2022 Nilson Lattari

My name is in your agenda as a name more, but you don’t have the courage to write beside it its real name: pleasure. For me, you don’t need to say any word, not even well-done lyrics. You don’t need to invite me for a dinner with illuminated candles or create a romantic vibe. I’m frivolous, light, fugacious. I’m the illuminated candle that lights up your loneliness.
My clothes are a package that you untie as a gift, like a shoe box, dresses that you bought in a boutique, a supermarket or anywhere and they are on the ground of a room or on a bed.
I can laugh if you ask me and I can put on clothes that your fantasy and imagination desire. I can simulate arriving at your home crying, to ask for protection or I can let you hurt me if that’s your wish.
I’m available, I’m cold and my body is filled with falsehoods, but I will make a difference for you to believe that it is true. I don’t care of your skin colour or your economic situation and I can be the best, and you will believe that I belong to you.
However, I have a smile inside of me. If you could imagine what I think while my body is there, but my soul isn’t, it’s far away from you. I’m frivolous, being female or not. I’m the object of desire available for your wishes. I’m a product of a contract.
I’m able to tell you the words that you want to listen to, and I will listen to your words as if they were the more important.
I am a love that you buy, I’m for sale and when I feel the touch of your hands on my body my mind feels disgust, I pretend to be the best woman that you had, but only why you want to feel pleasure.
You can call me all the time, by phone, a request, through a contract by money. I am capable of satisfying you because you cannot ask someone that, simply, loves you. And you and I can be a lovely couple that was invented and are embraced on a bed.
When I go away, you cannot realize the relief that I fell. I don’t waste time watching you sleep and not even caressing your face, thanking you for the pleasure you gave me.
I raise my hand only to pick up the money that you give me for the pleasure that I didn’t feel. When I go away I close the door and I abandon you in your loneliness. Maybe you will be crying because you are not capable of living and suffering to conquest a real love. A love built in the middle of couple fights, in spontaneous smiles, living in a home, light without frivolities.