Mad about you

Are you mad? He asked me with a smile on his face, slightly surprised by my brutal reaction.

Yes, I am mad. I am crazily mad… about you

About you … my mind explores possibilities, kneading a dough of pain and hope, with a sweet salty taste, in silence. The madness and crazy tears already left my body, leaving behind a beautiful corpse, functional, admirable and empty.

About you … I was definitely not thinking when he entered in me, strong and hard, telling me that I am so beautiful, completely turned on by my sexuality and charm. He insisted that I come, liking me insistently. I try to fake it, but it didn’t work, so, I finally just gave into it. I came twice and I left soon after his hotel room. He wanted me to stay, hugging me and kissing my body, but the time I was supposed to spend with him talking or doing anything was unbearable torture for me, intolerably boring. In the comfort of my house, I remembered about you, while counting the moths since I did not have sex, since you actually fucked me in the summer.

About you … I was thinking when she told me that you are not coming this year to Bologna, popping immediately in my mind the crowded hallways with red carpet emptied of your presence, the taste of the Italian streets, bitter without your steps. My heart beat stronger, faster and more painfully, when her words reached my ears.

About you … is almost every song on my playlist, every though from my mind that wonders how stupid a person can be to fall in love, hard and brutal, just like I have fallen for you.

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