Peccadillo

This city intoxicates me.

Its walls wrap me up in their poisonous embrace, pushing me in deeper. She indulges my memories of sins long forgotten.

I am in a part of this city I have never been in before. Yet its familiarity grasps me. It isn’t the people. Not even the smell. It is just a feeling. A feeling from years ago, bringing back departed encounters. Like bumping into what should be a ghost that should not be.

Bodies brush past me. A skirmish just to keep heading in one direction. On one path. But there is no one path in this city. It is a series of mazes interlocked and intertwined in each other. Feeding of each others complexities to create this cacophony of crazy confusion.

Today, I try to disguise myself in this return to her lair. I try to get lost in the labyrinths of her being. To not be recognized and to not remember. But something pulls me back to her. Even though it shouldn’t.

Something in her intoxicates me and pushes me deeper.

The answer eludes me. The question is why.