One Hundred Strokes of the Brush Before Bed
Page 12
In a pure white bed our bodies fit together perfectly. His skin joins with mine, and together we become strength and gentleness. We gaze into each other’s eyes as he slowly slips inside me, without hurting, because he says my body mustn’t be violated, just loved. I clasp him with my arms and legs, his sighs join with mine, his fingers intertwine with mine, and his pleasure blends inevitably with mine.
I fall asleep on his chest, my long hair covering his face, but he is happy about it and kisses me hundreds of times on the head. “Promise me one thing,” I whisper to him, “promise me we’ll never part.”
Another silence. He caresses my back, and I feel irresistible shivers. He penetrates me again as I thrust my hips, sticking to his.
And while I move slowly, he says, “Whether we part depends on two conditions. You shouldn’t feel imprisoned by me or my love, my affection, anything. You’re an angel who must fly free; you should never allow me to be the sole purpose of your life. You’re going to be a great woman, and now you know it.”
In a voice broken with pleasure I ask him what is the second condition.
“Never betray yourself, because if you do you’ll hurt both of us. I love you, and I will love you even if our paths should divide.”
Our pleasures fuse. I can’t help but hold my Love tightly and never ever leave him.
I fall asleep on his bed, spent. The night passes, and in the morning I am awakened by the hot, radiant sun. I find his note on the pillow:
May your life be filled with the highest, fullest, and most perfect happiness, marvellous creature. And may I play a part in it, as long as you would like. Because… from now on you must know: I would like it to be forever, even when you no longer turn around to look at me. I’ve gone to get you breakfast; I’ll be back soon.
With one eye open I observe the sun. Soft sounds reach my ear. The fishermen’s boats are beginning to dock after a night spent at sea. A journey into the unknown. A tear streams down my face. I smile when his hand grazes my bare back, and he kisses my neck. I look at him. I look at him and understand. Now I know.
I have concluded my journey in the forest, I have managed to escape from the ogre’s tower, from the clutches of the tempting angel and his devils, I have run away from the androgynous monster. And I have ended up in the castle of the Arab prince, who was expecting me, seated on a soft velvet pillow. He had me strip off my threadbare clothes and gave me the garments of a princess. He summoned the maidservants and commanded them to brush my hair. Then he kissed me on the forehead and said that he would watch me while I slept. One night we made love, and when I returned home I saw that my hair was still shining and my makeup intact. A princess, as my mother always says, so beautiful that even dreams want to steal her away.