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I put on my trench coat and hide behind mirrored aviator sunglasses when I take the subway. Your phone call beckons me to find you and let you have my body. No one else must know I have feelings for you. The growing impatience makes me weak with desire...
The scar on your face and the hair on your body make me want you even more. When I am inside you I wish to never be apart from your warmth and the strong smell of your sweat. Our passion takes over my mind and delirium brings me into the delusion that you are mine. I am yours this afternoon and you belong to me.
As you said, I understand now all that exists between lovers is companionship. Exquisite food and delicious wines only serve as the smaller diversions before we make love and spend hours caressing each other. Our conversations are mostly about my job and you teach me all about stocks and bonds. You enjoy my music and I admire your officer’s dress cap on the desk.
I know I may spend the night, but your lover could surprise us and this affair would be finished. I am “the other man” and you give me everything but a promise. Every time we meet I feel closer to you, but years later may render us just friends. Perhaps then I will understand everything you share with me over dinner, after sex.
© Text: Orlando Barahona
© Image: Jannis Tsipoulanis
Wardrobe Styling: Al Giga
This work by Orlando Barahona is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Join my page on Facebook:
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