In the kitchens of love, after all, vice is like the pepper in a good sauce; it brings out the flavour, it’s indispensable.

– Louis-Ferdinand Céline (Journey to the End of the Night, 1932)

I met this girl. We kissed and as if it was the obvious thing to do soon we did all the rest. It wouldn’t know how to describe her though. Sometimes she was blonde, then brunette, then blonde again. She also had dozen of names… you get the point.

We kissed and while doing so she gave a perky moan. He’s a good kisser, she might have thought, it is promising. A good and tasteless kiss. Not the pungency of desire, nor the salt of passion, just a proper one, as in the unwritten textbook of the good lover.

I guess this is how kisses taste like when you become an adult and nothing is much of a surprise anymore, for everything has been already tried once before. Maybe this is the way for the soul to find some sort of peace, and yet so awfully ordinary.
Faded, as a thousand years old masterpiece.

SONG OF THE DAY: O Mundo é um Moinho, Cazuza