Sybaritism

In Belgrade, 37 degrees (in shades).

At the countryside it’s fresh in the evening, so you give me your sweatshirt. We sit on the porch, laughing and kissing. Cuddling and purring. We say I love you without thinking. We think I love you without saying. Being lazy and snuggling all day long. You bite my ears, tickle me and call me baby, honey. And carry me inside in the evening, I’m so tired, as you caress my hair. I kiss you as a child, in the face, slurping.

In the morning, I walk barefooted around the house, quickly taking my clothes off, tossing things around and run in the shower (always cold!). I laugh because I cannot wait for the moment when I return and smell your lips. I come to you, wet, lightly touch your skin (always soft) and I enjoy every second.

Because… I know you feel the same way.

Because… I want you to feel the same way.

Because I don’t care about anything else.