BECAUSE OF LOVE. | By: Terry Collett | | Category: Short Story - Love Bookmark and Share


Becky loves the Japanese objects of art and so do you and she kneels down to get a better look at one of the prints that Monsieur Tissot has in one of his rooms and she says Look at the fine artisanship here Lily so fine so delicate so you lean over and see the painting sense her perfume smell the softness of it see her black lace headdress on her black hair so merging that they seem as one and as you come closer to her you want to kiss her cheek just one kiss beside her ear just beneath the earring hanging there but you donít you hang just a way fighting the temptation in case Monsieur Tissot should come in at that moment and neither of you would know where to put your faces or what to say but you do place your hand on her shoulder gently just a touch and she knows and feels it and probably like you it brings to mind the night before the passion the thrills the exploration of each otherís bodies the kisses the touching the embracing and yes she does seem to feel that because she looks up at you taking her eyes from the Japanese painting and smiles and if eyes could cause fires she could set alight the whole room and burn all this fine art into ashes just by the look just with those eyes and she pats your hand with hers and then looks away again at the painting and you take note of how well the black dress suits her how well it is on her and she uncertain when she bought if it was really for her and you had said yes it will suit you fine and so she had bought it and she had picked out the white dress you are wearing now and said it suited your hair colour and the waves and curls and you look at it now and feel the fine cloth next to your skin and white underwear she insisted you buy as well and you lean even closer you can hear her gentle breathing can hear it as you heard it the previous night as she slept after all the lovemaking and the excitement and you lay there on your side on the double bed just gazing at her and listening to her breathing and feeling a love for her almost overwhelming you and wanting to kiss her into action again but not doing so but just looking at each aspect of her gazing at her closed eyes her slightly pointed nose her full mouth and the way her ears became so kissable as she lay there and the black hair framing her head and face and she says look at the way these birds are painted Lily the colour the fineness of the line and you look at what she is indicating with her finger and yet you can say nothing the words are stuck in your throat momentarily so you nod and press a little more on her shoulder with your hand rub it gently and she looks up at you and sees you gazing at her and you know there are tears in your eyes not from sadness or fear or anxiety but because you are so happy to be here with her at this moment so pleased that she is so near and wanting so much for this time never to go away never to end and yet knowing that one day it will knowing that it will all be a memory a gradual turning to dust and ashes and all the kisses and embraces and lovemaking and excitement and love and wanting and feeling will be gone and at that moment as you gaze at her with her fine dress and headdress and eyes and smile and scent of perfume you realize so deeply how much you love her and how deep that love is between you both and you wonder if at that moment she too has that glimpse of where all this will go all this that you have and whether the tears in her eyes are the there for the same reason knowing that you are both fine flowers sweet scented sooner or later to be dead and out of season.

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