Let’s call her angel face because she looks like she’s used her wings to fly straight out of a Church choir straight into my class.
She’s 19 years young and her age is about the only thing that curbs the enthusiasm in my courtship.
She has said some of my sadness has rubbed off on her and that I shouldn’t pretend to be happy when she can clearly feel am just desperate.
She lives in a dorm. If she wants to make it better she can climb out of her window, sneak to my place, and we can throw around ridiculously upbeat ideas for novels and movies in between making the beast with two backs. Half sensual Virgo, half desperate Belgian.
She doesn’t believe in star signs, and yet she claims to be a Leo, whereas she is more than 50 percent Virgo. She has the hidden, cool, subtle, insidiuous sensuality that goes with the sign. Although her sexuality seems to be mostly dormant, and she has the innocent looking face a nun would envy, there is of course much more than meets the eye, and I would love to burn myself on her fire while I take off her boots in bed.
I tell her about pretty much all the dirt I have adorned my life with, which is like lashing her morals, because this is an idealistic girl. Not entirely innocent but clutching a moral compass in her delicate hands.
She’s as skinny as she is sharp-witted and she has as much to say as she is introverted.
Today after class she asked me this:
‘When i ask the typical ako sa mas question, i take no dobre as an appropriate answer 😀 i shall expect you to give me some of your most recent :
1. Stastie (Happiness)
2. Strachy (fears)
3. Sny (dreams)’
So far she hasn’t climbed through her window to come and have our spirits blend. That could mean several things. For example:
1. She’s completely not attracted to me
2. She’s scared
3. She is asleep
4. She has no window.
So to answer her question:
Please read the post about the sense and sensibility of Slovak women.
Almost every morning I wake up with a raging heart fearing that I have wasted my potential. And despite all your claiming of wanting to help you are never there during such moments.
I can’t remember the ones I had when I was asleep.
Dreams I had while I was awake: kissing every part of your body and sinking in you. Finally finishing a great novel. Doing something bigger than just teaching. Flashbacks to the women in my life.
A dream of a world shared, not fought over.
The memory of reading
your poetry in a dark room together with you.
Brillantly graveyard romantic, if that makes me an eternal teen, to want to roll around in the grass with you and gobble you up naked, physically and mentally, then being an eternal teen is the highest form of living.