Bala de caramelo, by Renata Régis Florisbelo

He came all in black, his favorite color, his and mine. Elegance, mystery and magnetism. That color fulfilled the role of awakening the memory, bringing flashes of the past, the colors of the feelings that were crispy... My heart has not yet freed itself from the color of the clothes it wears, from the body it shows, from the desire it alone awakens. And that soft voice, a velvet of pleasure that comes to caress my ears. Sweetness of voice that only he has.

The touch of displicence: he let himself be perceived in the flagrante of the caramel bullet taken from his pocket, peeled, rolled in the nudity that the removed paper provoked him. Silence, my eyes nailed to it, in the mouth that finally grabbed the discreet bullet. And I melted like that caramelized dough, it in the mouth I was, on the periphery, on the outside of that shirt, pants and black shoes.

Dumb, numb, my legs softened, my heart melted, and I almost melted into the dough of the caramel bullet that will never taste vulgar to me again.

 

Author: Renata Regis Florisbelo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Od0-N2p5wTw&feature=youtu.be

 

Read also: Pasta dish, by Renata Régis Florisbelo