Me and you

There are days when you visit for merely a moment, either escaping from work or catching me before I am off to class. I run to you in cute lingerie and give you a kiss. We make out on the couch. You pull off my panties on the bed. You make my legs quiver, and I make your toes curl. Then you jump into the shower, get dressed, I kiss you again — and you run away.

But you always come back.

Most of the days you stay for longer. Those times before the previous exhibit we discuss historical figures and cool old-school literature. I was fortunate to be raised in a very cultured family in Moscow, so I know bits and pieces of everything and dabble in a lot of things. Who do you like? Personally, I am a fan of William Blake, Nabokov, and Hemingway.

And from time to time you take me outside with you. Maybe it’s a morning on a golf course where the wind would lift my skirt up in front of you and make us blush. A visit to the cinema for the newest movie where you’d squeeze my knee at the most romantic part, or an evening at a posh restaurant where we’d watch the sunset by the sea with a glass of champagne.

Despite me being so young, my adventures rival yours — I’ve been a nomad since 15 years old, moving from one place to another in search of paradise.

And as I stay here, my favorite mornings are those that I spend with you. We spend the night before sharing stories and leaving kisses all over me and you — so those mornings are very peaceful. I playfully sit on your lap and peek at the newspaper you are reading at the kitchen table. You smile at the frown on my expressive face and my charming snort as I laugh, and ruffle my soft hair that’s brown in the shadow and copper in the sun.

This is our own oasis of happiness in the rush of daily routine.

With you.

And with me.