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Je ne regrette rien
I wake up, blinking into the warm morning rays. The sunlight kisses the tip of my nose. The freckles you thought were so cute yesterday wink knowingly at each other. You are a witness.
My gaze wanders over the traces of last night. But you are no longer there. The seat next to me is empty. I feel emptiness in my chest. Not that I didn't know. Reason had warned me. Don't go, she said. It will hurt later.
And yet I didn't hesitate for a moment to give in to temptation. To feel the thrill of disobedience, to rush in euphorically to land in your strong arms. A dance of energetic intimacy, pulsating bodies, warmth, 10,000 volts...
I light a cigarette and watch the rings in the air. Just yesterday you were trying to stack them up on your index finger. Giggling, we dialed random numbers and made childish jokes in disguised voices.
We were drunk on adrenaline and attraction.
"Tu es belle comme une cathédrale
Je veux m'agenouiller avec crainte
T'at tout admettre
Et demander ta bénédiction"
"You are as beautiful as a cathedral
I would like to kneel in awe
Confess everything to you
And ask for your blessing"
I breathe the promises you gave me yesterday into the morning freshness. My body steams as the coolness of the open window hits my tender skin. My skin that still feeds on having been touched by you. You showed me what real goose bumps are. You were my best teacher.
I press my face into the white sheets one last time and breathe in the balsamic scent that your body had exuded. Sweet, oriental sounds echo pale inside me. I had tried so hard to live in the moment and still hold on to it. I had no chance. Sleep stole him gently from my arms.
"Il n'y a rien à avoir"
"There's nothing to confess," I write on a Post It and stick it to your mirror, next to the purple lipstick mark of my kissing mouth.
The moment I pull the door shut behind me, the pain hits me full force. Do I regret it? Je ne regrette rien!
-----------
I gave in to the temptation to test Lancaster Eau de Toilette Concentrée after reading all the enticing reviews. Balsamic, spicy herbs that cast a spell over me. Naming them individually is impossible for me. Smoke is in the air. Oriental, almost ethereal with a slight sweetness. Strong projection with powerful persistence. Impressive for an eau de toilette. A heavyweight that nevertheless seems half as heavy thanks to its transparency. Amazing, there is so much passion in this inconspicuous bottle, which looks more like an old self-tanner.
I knew it had already been discontinued. I knew it would only be a love for a brief moment.
Does it hurt? Incredibly yes.
Did I regret it? Not for a second.
My gaze wanders over the traces of last night. But you are no longer there. The seat next to me is empty. I feel emptiness in my chest. Not that I didn't know. Reason had warned me. Don't go, she said. It will hurt later.
And yet I didn't hesitate for a moment to give in to temptation. To feel the thrill of disobedience, to rush in euphorically to land in your strong arms. A dance of energetic intimacy, pulsating bodies, warmth, 10,000 volts...
I light a cigarette and watch the rings in the air. Just yesterday you were trying to stack them up on your index finger. Giggling, we dialed random numbers and made childish jokes in disguised voices.
We were drunk on adrenaline and attraction.
"Tu es belle comme une cathédrale
Je veux m'agenouiller avec crainte
T'at tout admettre
Et demander ta bénédiction"
"You are as beautiful as a cathedral
I would like to kneel in awe
Confess everything to you
And ask for your blessing"
I breathe the promises you gave me yesterday into the morning freshness. My body steams as the coolness of the open window hits my tender skin. My skin that still feeds on having been touched by you. You showed me what real goose bumps are. You were my best teacher.
I press my face into the white sheets one last time and breathe in the balsamic scent that your body had exuded. Sweet, oriental sounds echo pale inside me. I had tried so hard to live in the moment and still hold on to it. I had no chance. Sleep stole him gently from my arms.
"Il n'y a rien à avoir"
"There's nothing to confess," I write on a Post It and stick it to your mirror, next to the purple lipstick mark of my kissing mouth.
The moment I pull the door shut behind me, the pain hits me full force. Do I regret it? Je ne regrette rien!
-----------
I gave in to the temptation to test Lancaster Eau de Toilette Concentrée after reading all the enticing reviews. Balsamic, spicy herbs that cast a spell over me. Naming them individually is impossible for me. Smoke is in the air. Oriental, almost ethereal with a slight sweetness. Strong projection with powerful persistence. Impressive for an eau de toilette. A heavyweight that nevertheless seems half as heavy thanks to its transparency. Amazing, there is so much passion in this inconspicuous bottle, which looks more like an old self-tanner.
I knew it had already been discontinued. I knew it would only be a love for a brief moment.
Does it hurt? Incredibly yes.
Did I regret it? Not for a second.
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