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19 Ocak 2023, 02:52
Work is over and people by the thousand*pour out onto the square; grains of sand flowing into the beating heart of Marrakech. They play mad music. A beat of drums, of wooden soles and friendly arguments. A chant of crooked bartering, of laughter and motorcycle exhausts.A million stars burn into your eyes. Blinking neons held in absurd contraptions, candles suspended in red glass, tall men spitting fire and the minaret of the Koutoubia mosque, wandering the sky like a lost sun. The smell of luscious tajines dances with the stench of the tanneries.This is the warmth of Jamaâ El Fna after a burning summer day, you'd know it from all others. Under your feet, the battered old stones whisper back*the merciless vigor of the desert sun.A stranger's wine and the copperish feel of blood linger together on your tongue. They taste like the cunt of your first whore. You were but a lost boy when you found her, in her tent guarded by an ageless snake charmer. He still plays they say, but the viper died. That woman taught you things, left you poorer but a man. So many years ago.What was her name?One more step on the kind, burning stones. And one more step and one more step and one more step, and one more...**The avcılar escort bayan (https://www.beylikduzuyonetim.com/) world stands still, held by a bright moon crescent. The smile of a massive Moor in the sky over you. The man is ancient, with skin of black, hard-boiled leather softened by an immaculate djellaba. He wears the face of an old titan, who has seen wars big and small, who has lost things and felt the times go by. Scarred, sculpted by nature and men.How beautiful was he once, in the embrace of a princess entranced. When the sun would rise, she was to belong to another. But this one night was theirs. She gave him all: her love, her innocence, her cunt and hymen, her shameless devotion. Tears made an oued of the rifts under the titan's eyes, as in ecstasy the princess prayed for more. But the light grew behind the blinds and no man can stop politics.Somewhere a good and kind king calls a blood stranger ?son?. A story for another time, inch'Allah."Follow me, Sahib.?The Moor says ?master? like a wise man who bows,*but knows better.He doesn't wait for your answer, strides away. The crowd breaks on him like waves on an old rock. It's late, people seek the lights, the food and the fresh pots beylikdüzü escort bayan (https://www.beylikduzuescord.com/) of mint tea. But the Moor goes against the flow, into the dark corner of the square, the one your eyes ignore and your heart aches for.You follow him blind through the laces of the souk, into this ever-changing sea of streets, tents, and folds. Few know the one he seeks, but you've been here before. The snake charmer still plays in the dust, his back to the crumbling brick wall. A young and graceful cobra dances before him. The word was true, the viper died long ago.?She waits for you, friend,? the Moor says. You bow to him. He turns back without word or care and vanishes into the souk. His smile fades last into the night.***********************She lies on her side, her back turned to you, her side to*the rough woolen carpet. She looks not a day older than she did then. A beauty not of this world. For her,*the perfection of youth is a jewel set in the*metal of age. Her long hair brushes*her pale skin. She has it the color of desert wood smoothed by the sandy wind. The shy light of a candle weaves*a flickering dress out of shadows. It reminds you of Chinese ink spilled on a vellum page. esenyurt escort (https://www.beylikduzuyonetim.com/) A simple glass necklace set with a gray stone shimmers around her neck. In another life, men held her with cast iron or gold.No more of it.?You are back, boy,? the Whore says.You slip out of your shoes and kneel, two steps away. Not until this moment did you know why you were here.?You told me it*would be so.??So I did.? Her voice slithers with honey.Yet she does not turn. Your eyes are left to wander the curves of her hips, the maze of shadows her body casts, the long valley between her legs. It leads to a*promise*drawn from the sweetest memory...?You gave me a gift, many years ago,? you whisper, and your throat feels tight. ?I squandered it like a fool.?**She had told you then, that would happen too. You did not believe her. You were young. Inspired. Immortal.*But as the words squirm past your lips, they become the reality of your curse, shaped like a curved dagger. It's lust and loss, striking together. Your body folds on itself. Your forehead hits the floor. In the pose of a praying man you wait, while*your ungraceful cock pulses between your legs*with every beat of your heart.You are a fraud. You are nothing without her.?The words,? you beg, in the face of her silence. ?I need them back.?You can feel her move, ever closer to you, in slithering grace. You dare not rise.?Do you remember my price, boy??A strange question. Who could forget? You dare not rise.?Do you agree to it??