baggage – a matching set

April 15, 2011 § Leave a comment

come back so i can say yes this time do it again now that i know what to call what you did

this time i’ll be ready i like it rough now and i’m done with romance i never met another man who loved me so much at first sight he had to hurt me to do it

It troubles me from time to time, thinking on just how much I respond to this poem. It makes sense to me, it turns me on, it reflects the way I’ve looked at the world and love and sex since I was old enough to even ponder such large things.

The fragment “come back so i can say yes this time” pushed its way into my head towards the end of my date last night/this morning, but not in a rape way – though he has more than one scary knife, none were pointed at me.  This is more in terms of our inability to be anyone other than we are. There was a moment, and I could have/should have/really fucking wanted to do something, grab him, I don’t know, I wanted to act on something primal and not so analytical and not so me. And then I watched that moment pass, in my head and then across his face, and I hated myself. Where is the magic button you can push that will fast-forward you just a page or two in the narrative, so that you don’t lose your nerve and screw it up on this very page in this very minute? I am expert at recognizing the moment pass, the inexorable spread of it, the sick pull of it in my abdomen, and mostly the confused dawning of it in someone else’s eyes as he (usually he) sees me for who I actually am. I want to change, but how? Come back so I can say yes this time.

M

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