The Rage

He does not know what I live for or what I dream of, but when he's here, he understands what I need. He does not know my parents or my relatives, but I forget them as well, when it comes to a glass of whiskey at night. He does not know my second name or where I was born, but he kisses me, and I do not remember, out of passion drunk. He does not know my heart, He does not know what he longs for, but she knows every single fold of my body. He may leave immediately or not, there is no power over me. He is just the person who taught me what passion is.