Our hot breath hung like icicles in the air, that night we met under the sodium incandescence. The memory plays back in my head as film noir, and yet I can still feel the richness of every colour; the deep ocean in your eyes, the Russian red beneath my blouse.
I do not know which was more sublime: the music coursing through our veins, out to our fingertips, electric against one another's skin; or the achingly beautiful details of your voice as you whispered sweet everythings against my ear. The inticacies of your Slavic words may have been just beyond my grasp, but oh, how I understood every meaning.
How very Cold War, as I traded secrets with a Russian man beneath moonlit sheets. How very beautiful, as Shostakovich played on to the beat of our fervent hearts.
Oh lover, the elixir of life is on your tongue.