But because of you, I learned to love and not fear. Because of you, I can be loved and not be tormented. Because of you, I feel like a woman and not a victim.
Scusi mia bella*, but it runs in the blood of all Italians to be skillful lovers. So you have to get used to this.
I cannot believe that you're still a girl. Your kisses don’t seem that innocent. They are driving me crazy.
If you were three times poor, I would still have paid attention to you and fell head over heels in love with you.
I really don't know how he does it. How he can take any situation and seduce its pants off. It's a talent really.
Another tug and a yank at my chestnut curls and she snarls at me, “You are so much like her.”This is something my mother often says and never explains. Though it is a great mystery to me it is also a blessing, for she always hurries from the room after saying it.
I do know the difference between right and wrong, but I just like the way wrong feels. It's an impulse, an urge more intense than anything else.
A swirl of dust and dirt picked up from the shadows that fell over everything in this grungy corner of the world. The dancing movement was hypnotizing. The sand and grit had rested long enough to have drifted into obscurity. But fate had different plans, and this gust of wind had lifted them and turned their obscure and unknown existence into a chaotic tempest of action that could not be ignored.
My painful memories sift through me like sand through stretched fingers. Only small pieces cling and stay around for me to keep, the rest just disappear. I know not where and I don’t
He saved me in so many ways. I didn't see it at first. He saved me from certain death. He's the scariest person I've ever met, but for some reason I felt safe with him. Now I'm just a fading star amongst all the bright ones...All I want is love and all I get is people trying to kill me and take away what peace I manage to find in between.
In each club we went the dancers had the same moves, none nearly as sensuous as mine on any dance floor, but because they are scantily clad and stripping off the men go nuts and throw money at them. In the largest club and the last we went to I watched one pretty girl with big boobs pull a handful of twenties in one set. I followed her to the ladies-room to learn she only danced a few rounds per night and averaged $250 every night and with my face and body she said I would bank much more.
People come to New Orleans to forget themselves and party like a pagan. They gorge themselves on exotic spicy foods and five to seven course meals, taking hours to consume. They behave badly in bars and routinely encourage their willing female counterparts to flash their tits for cheap plastic beads. Beads women would never wear anywhere else but in New Orleans become triumphant symbols of one’s insatiable allure.
When he sees my pain, the old and new, he pushes me to give it to him. To give in to his need to consume all of it and make it his.