Month: May 2014

a poignant, yet marvelous death

Though a little frightened, she let him have his way, and the reckless, shameless sensuality shook her to her foundations, stripped her to the very last, and made a different woman of her. It was not really love. It was not voluptuousness. It was sensuality sharp and searing as fire, burning the soul to tinder.

Burning out the shames, the deepest, oldest shames, in the most secret places. It cost her an effort to let him have his way and his will of her. She had to be a passive, consenting thing, like a slave, a physical slave. Yet the passion licked round her, consuming, and when the sensual flame of it pressed through her bowels and breast, she really thought she was dying; yet a poignant, marvelous death.

D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover

aut viam inveniam aut faciam

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I shall either find a way or make one.

It took just under twenty years between decision and ink.

The words are a way of life for me: most everything is possible so long as you are willing to bear the cost.

I live a balanced life, and this is one reason for it. I almost always weigh the price of my actions against the reward.

Almost.

There are times where I act without thinking; when hunger overrides sense.

For a long time the metaphor of the wolf was merely a literary tact. But in the last five years I have come to have a better understanding of myself.

And this much is true: I harbor a wolf within my heart.

Rough handling.

This is what I remember.

You, pinned to the wall, hand at your throat, hand in your hair.

Neck, exposed. Pulse beneath my lips.

Bracing you against the wall; an unsnapping, hands at your shirt – over your head.

Bared skin. I almost regret the hunger that followed. I did not spare the moment to memorize the sight.

Your nipple, caught between my teeth. Feeling it harden. Throb.

You were a craving. I named your curves with bared teeth and unrelenting intent.

spring

It’s not that I feel more dangerous.

It’s that I feel more sure.

Perhaps it is because NE is becoming confident in her physical self again.

Perhaps it is because SB is remembering how to live with sharp edges.

Perhaps it is because I miss supplication; not as a demanding need, but as a missing piece. A lost glove found.

It is the difference between listening to music. And feeling it.

with and without

no, she said.
peace is not stasis
or silence
it is not an absence of experience

it is an agreement the heart makes
to have, without greed.
to love, without bounds
to be, without fear