Je komt wel eens van die teksten tegen die je uit het niets stevig weten te raken. Dit is er zoeen:
Years later, we bumped into each other at the club. She was waiting for me, really, but I didn’t mind. There will always be something about her that just kills me, and she knows it. Is that why she’d come? What do I care? I’d been lonely for too long. When she saw me, she took one final puff from her cigarette, then stamped it out and looked up at me — hopefully, and a little afraid. So I said ‘Hey’, as though nothing had gone down. As the we’d parted only moments ago. As though..as though…I said ‘hey’ and she smiled back to me. Then arm-in-arm we marched right to my bed.
God, how I loved her.
I thought there must be some hope, some way, some future we could share. I though of faith and destiny, past lives and tea leaves, of black magic and voodoo and anything else that might explain our current rendezvous, as we went about our serious business of washing my sheets in tears and sweat.
God, how I loved her then. I was addicted to her, and she to me. And we always found ourselves rather easily lowering ourselves into each other’s hottest fires. Fearlessly leaping into the abyss, mouths locked together in a kiss that killed us long before we hit the ground.
Afterwards, we lay there smoking, legs entwined. She spoke softly everything that came to mind, avoiding only that which was real, and the thousand pieces of my heart broke again, into a million, leaving a fine layer of bittersweet dust on my tongue which then burned away with every inhalation of my hot smoke. She could still have me, if only she’d let me go.… Lees gerust door