Recollections of a teenage second-kiss
Foreigner: is an agent that is different to what is known. I have never seen you before, but today is the first time.
I had never noticed the guy in the “Blue scarf”. But that night, just as dark and mysterious as the sky looks over Spain, such was the setting of our love.
One greeting, one look. He was kind, perhaps as he had already been with a hundred more, but seemed improvised and tender— his goal was clear, as he looked down at me with a cigarette hanging between his rich lips.
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Myself: with the eyes blinded by longing. “It does not matter, just look at me and hug me as you do”. He speaks very close to my face, he embraces me and kisses my cheeks in between phrases. The moment is close, I feel it.
The music was loud and setting the mood for this romance feast, everywhere you looked, there were groups simmering into couples. Transient love with endearing kisses, they will probably forget about as soon as the sun rises over the coast.
His eyes circled me carefully, entirely, wrapped me with fire just with a look. His phone was ringing — but he ignored it. Spin me around to this music, and Spain, what is tonight in your air? He twists me delicately into his arms, and all seems to be in slow motion as he approaches me.
With a hand under my chin, seductively, he pauses. He takes a deep look into my eyes, our pupils mirror each other for a moment. And then, he delicately wraps his lips around mine. Everything disappears, at least in my mind. And until the music stops, we indulge in this opportunity.
The taste of your mouth, is the fantasy and the dream of my summer.
