We are all the walking wounded. i am not so surprised at the folks who fall along the way… relegated to institutions, to prisons, or to marginal lives in dire straits. i am not shocked when people behave badly as a result of their tortured pasts… when they visit upon others the same measure of … Continue reading
Monthly Archives: July 2012
my dear… slut
i love the way your mouth works wrapping around words i’ve never heard and explaining things i don’t understand delivering commands as easily as it whispers sweet nothings saying my dear one minute calling me slut the next i delight in its wanderlust… the way it travels meeting my mouth in unexpected moments brushing against … Continue reading
Some say the world will end in fire
Cost of admission to the club $20 Two waters $2 Glo-bracelets $1 Finding your limit: Priceless i’ve been knocking some things of the old bucket list here of late. Figging, for instance. i like it. Caning (not just a few playfully placed lines… but a systematic session) is also a like, though i imagine that … Continue reading
My Kitchen Man
There’s nothing sexier than someone in the kitchen, eh? Swoon Bessie Smith’s My Kitchen Man 😉 Continue reading
On being Open
This morning, i was trying to find a word to describe the feeling i had… the feeling of being open to new experiences. Frustrated, i turned to the handy synonym feature of WORD and asked it to suggest other words. The results floored me. They also made me question our (English/American/Modern) attitudes towards the concept of … Continue reading
Softer Shell
The world made me hard. i allowed the world to make me hard. Defending against its onslaughts, i took on a shell. Over time it hardened nicely and kept my soft insides perfectly safe… safe from pain and safe from pleasure. It’s a process, coming out of the shell. Fear drove me into it… and … Continue reading
i am broken
She asked me, “Does it ever go away?” and i wanted to tell her it did… but couldn’t lie to her. “No,” i told her… “it doesn’t ever go away…” and she continued crying – her pale skin blotching with emotion… her shaking hands taking kleenex after kleenex from mine . i told her that … Continue reading
