Rodrigo Brand - Love noir
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Love noir


What a piece, what a treat! Aphrodite would be jealous. Indeed. Her eyes, her brown eyes… damn! Let me tell you – poets and writers love to talk about blue eyes. How beautiful they are, how they resemble the sky or the depths of the ocean. If that’s the case, goddamnit, those dark brown eyes were an expression of the whole fucking universe! Sorry for cursing, but sometimes you gotta do it. Right? It’s the only way to proper address the magnitude of something. I had to. I have to. To make a move. To do something. We think we’re in control, but let me tell you another something – gravity, my friend. Gravity is in control. That pull. Yeah, we’re all gonna lie down someday. Flat. On the ground. Beneath it even. And, baby…. anyone would die to lie down… with her. I would assume.

– Excuse me, Mrs.…

And there I was… naked, vulnerable. It’s not a comfortable feeling, but deep down, I think we crave it. Right? Tell me I’m right. Or wrong. Don’t we all crave to find something unique? Something larger than us? I mean… a purpose, a love… anything that makes life have some sort of meaning. Something that can give us some… direction. A push. A pull. Yeah… Gravity. Her eyes had this attribute. A gravitational wave. A pull capable of bending space and time. At least mine. I went to her, like a moth attracted to a lamp bulb. Towards her eyes. Towards her lips. Towards the light. Hypnotized. I confess, I barely recollect the conversation.

– Would you do anything for me?

– Yes…

– Would you kill for me?

– Yes…

– Would you die for me?

– Yes…

Oh, she was no angel. She was the villain, actually. I don’t get this thing about movies, how they portray the villain as someone with a flaw, a scar, a limp, something ugly. I mean, I understand the writer’s point, but… in real life… the bad guy… the bad girl… boy, are they nice. Seductive. Beautiful. That’s how they get you! The Devil is an angel, my friend!  She was no angel. I’m having this conversation with you from the hospital. What? What was I supposed to do? Have you been in a hospital? That’s why they call us patients, there’s nothing to do! Besides have mental conversations. But yeah, I got a point, of course I got a point! What I’m trying to say is – beware! Blondes and redheads are not the only predators out there! Brunettes! Goddamn Brunettes! They WILL fool you! They will entice you with their modesty and then… BOOM! You’re done, my friend! I was… I remember… Fuck! I didn’t sleep with her… She didn’t– Fuck! See! She asked me to… She… told me to…

– Prove. Bleed for me.

I didn’t see the blade. Cutting. I felt… I thought the pain was… you know, normal. It is, right? When love is involved. Or no? Well, she got me. She got me good. What can I say? Some women ask more than others. And some men give more than others. Anyways. I guess it was Yoko Ono who said it. “Use your blood to paint. Keep painting until you faint. Keep painting until you die”.             Life is… art, my friend.     And so is love.

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