Tenuto

time is a litany
a drowning progression of hours
lost amidst dreaming
foundering in the becalmed sea
melancholic drifting
the tide
carries away
the last remnant of what we were

Seeing the grain, the stalk and the field

I wonder what people think when I ask or say something. Often, especially from women their response tells me that they are answering something other than what I asked. Let me provide a for instance.

I provided some entertainment. Entertainment that they said they enjoyed. Well and good. I asked, if you enjoyed what I provided, would you do a little thing for me? I will understand if you say no.

The response I received was a critique of the entertainment I provided. How I would need to do better to receive a reward. She also included a appeal to authority, with herself as the authority. Not a simple no. Nor had we negotiated a dominance scene. I can take this a few ways.

One: I can question in confusion, that since it was stated that the entertainment was enjoyable why now lash out as if it was not? Because I asked for something in return?

Two: I could be affronted and actively lash out. But that’s not really my style. Though I am affronted.

Three: I could fawn all over myself trying to please her. Except I’m not a submissive and more importantly this wasn’t a negotiated scene. I did not consent to this. I will not play under those conditions.

Four: I can do what I did, which is see through the manipulation and decline to play further with a bad actor.

I know I’m emotional, seen often as sweet, and have no college degree. I point out the degree because she mentioned her 2 degrees. Perhaps that leads people to the conclusion that I am somehow less. Less intelligent, less perceptive, more prone to manipulation.

I don’t have a degree because regurgitating facts bores me. Because learning by rote is not my strength nor my desire. I’m seen as sweet because I genuinely like and care for the people I choose to associate with. It is not weakness. And emotional, well that is true but I see with my heart, my head and my intuition. I often just choose my heart.

It does floor me that someone who seemingly knows me would so underestimate me. I dislike being this angry about it but what can I say, I’m emotional.

After

I don’t have a poem.
I just have a desire.
To hold and to touch.
Be with me, we’ll be like breathing.
Easy and absolutely necessary.

Thin distance

wonder if you’re gentle
Would kiss with tenderness to match fierceness
Are you as lonely as you seem
Take refuge in my arms
To wonder or is it wish?
At long days ending
To hear your heart against mine
And spring forth, joyous
From long embrace

Impact

image

Waves of fire
Undulating in the dying light of day
Memories blossom
… Then fade

3 is a thinking time

I always want one step more than people are willing to give.
One word, one touch past their limit.
Always striving to find the person willing to match me step by step. It is my fondest wish. My hearts desire. And probably asking entirely too much. Or perhaps just too much information into a public space. But if you don’t roll the dice, you’ll never hit eight the hard way.

3 AM thoughts

I wonder what it is like to receive my romantic attention. Is it smothering to be thought of in focus? By which I mean as a primary thought, like writing or learning. To know that I think about them when I wake up, when I sleep, and just during the day. To read my poetry that they inspire, to receive compliments and pet names, to hear the thousands of thoughts that slam into my brain.

To deal with the way my brain works, confident but always willing to read a situation as negative. Needing to be reassured of your interest until I’m completely confident in it. Needing to hear back as soon as possible. Needing to know why you aren’t available or will be gone for whatever ongoing conversation we are having.

Dealing with my rules. Dealing with my sexual appetite. With my stories about what I desire to do with and to you, then your realization that they weren’t so much stories as points of intention.

Maybe it’s all too much and the relationship just dies under the weight of communication. I try to restrain my heart, but I often fail. I try to be easy and chill but it’s not my nature. Serious and intense is my nature, though I can be silly if I feel safe. I don’t know. I guess that’s why this is bothering me at three in the morning.

Prime example

Every year I attend a gaming convention.  That’s video games, board games, card games.  It’s generally around Labor day and it’s in Seattle.  I’ve become less interested in the games themselves and more interested in the city as character. Also, there are panels and talks about the games and games industry juxtaposed with psychology or sociology.  I enjoy that and I really love the community as a whole.  But the point of this is I have, to me, a odd goal.  I want to have a lover go with me to this convention.  To be with me in Seattle, and see me when I am least inhibited.  It’s an odd desire and odd goal, I think.  But I also think that the trip is very important to me and I want to be in a relationship strong enough to share this thing I love with them. 

Driving desires

Driving home and all I can think is I wish I had a sub to meet me at the door. Waiting in first position so we can start the weekend right.