I’ve been told that I’m squishy. Or too nice. That I was too sappy or too romantic.
It’s true and not true.
Tell me what you need and give consent and the Claws can come out to play. My limits are few but I need consent to be given. Otherwise, I’m just a man who will help and emotionally support you, like a good Sir but never crossing the line.
Not because I don’t know how or don’t want to cross it, but because I do.
Consent, ongoing and enthusiastic, should never be seen as a bad thing. There are those who would say that I should just take when it seems like consent is given. I can’t. I won’t. Informed, enthusiastic, ongoing. It’s the only way to fly or float as the case may be.
You say you’re innocent
While you fumble manipulation
While you look for my attention
Saying your naive
Knowing that makes me want to protect you
Protect you and take you
Waiting on that yes
Waiting for you to speak
I’m just the freak
Waiting on consent
Before our carnival of sins begins
I want this
Of pain and pleasure
Until all is undone
Until I’m satisfied
Always wanting more
That next step
That next depravity
At the edge of your desires and back again
Watching your ecstasy
Kiss them away
Each new innocence
Each new horizon
I want this
Turn the key
Open the doors
One step away
We’ll start slow
Good morning, how are you?
Only the gentleman
Only the kind Sir
You’ll never see the barbed wire
Unless you desire
Eyes brushing mine
I’d change it all
If she said Please
If she said
I want what I desire
She deserves so much more
Than she’s settled for
It’s your decision
Yes and I come
Look in your eyes saying yes
Entire body straining, enticing
Your fingers play along my arm
Without the verbal
Yes this is what I want
About my dominance
This is what it is
To be bound by honor
You have to give yourself over to love. I know thats crazy. I know that invites pain and death and the dissolution of the self. But you must. Not in some religious sense unless we mean as a philosophy of hope for each other. Only through love can humanity save itself. And I don’t mean love as some cold thing but let respect, hope, desire, and the elevation of others inform your choices. And if you find yourself with someone you love, who loves you, and if all parties enthusiastically consents, express that love physically. Even if that’s just being in the same room. Or holding hands. Or kissing. Or the whole panoply. Love is no cold thing. It is of heat, of flame.
Help and dictate not how that help is used. If you give money to someone, accept that they know their own needs and let go any notion that you have the right to dictate. Give freely and without expectation of reciprocity. Let love be your guide.
This is not to say that you should endanger yourself, just that we all hide a bit more than may be needful.
And I’m definitely not saying that a person who takes in the belief that they act in love are to be forgiven. In my belief system, if you take without consent, then you must suffer the dire and vicious consequences.
I say only that love should be closer to a guiding principle than we generally let it be.
Bones brittle break
Last chance for change
Bought with blood
Paid by knife
Taking is taught
Consequences are bought
And a fell darkness
Wakes the dreamer
Wake in me this desire
A step out of bounds
A step beyond reason
And reel in
Either way I’ll comply
Boundaries tried and tested
It’s no small feat
To know what lines not to cross
Sometimes we never know until it’s a
I hate that men don’t defend women anymore. That when some asshole says something or does something, even right in front of them, they chuckle along or are, at best, silent. Silence is condonment, jackass.
Not around me. And this isn’t some “I’m a nice guy” rant. I can be a bastard. It’s just this. If you are my friend or my family or my lover, I will protect you. And if someone’s behavior speaks of nonconsent then, I’m a nightmare. It’s a line that those around me are not allowed to cross. By my direct intervention if necessary.
But lesser offenses too. For instance, I was talking to a friend of mine and this jackass who works for her makes the swirling finger, your crazy gesture in reference to my friend. He was smiling like he thought it was the best joke in the world.
I stopped talking to my friend, turned to him and said, “If you ever make that gesture to my friend again I will snap it off and feed it to you.”
His expression went from all smiles to cowering that quickly. Like I had kicked his dog. But he never did it again. She had told him to stop doing things like that and it never stuck. Because he didn’t respect her.
But he feared me, and rightly so.
Would I prefer that when a person is demeaned or insulted or predatory behavior occurs and they try to put a stop to it, that the behavior stops? Yes, absolutely.
But if it doesn’t, then say something. It’s not bro’s being bro’s. It’s not fucking acceptable. And it is in no way the victims fault that you are acting like a asshat.
So yeah, I’ll defend women or the vulnerable. I’ll back your play if you want to act instead. If you say you have it, then ok. But I’m still here.
Playful is dangerous
Consent looms over us
Words can be spoken
play is enough of a invitation
You make me want to crowd you
Push you up against the wall
Pin your wrist against your struggles
Taste your mouth in fierce possession
Take all that your playfulness promises
Burn us both with passion
Which you said you don’t want
Yet you play and play
I am not made of stone
Eventually, something will give
Note: I’ll say something, be blunt. Consent is far too important to me. But she pushes and pushes. I can’t tell if she wants me to use force or if she is waiting to say “aha! Gotcha! You’re just like the rest. It’s tiring and it hurts.
I walk up to a table at some kind of gala. I sit down and look at the sad young lady sitting alone. She’s beautiful. I could describe her, but all women I find beautiful are pretty in their own unique way. Suffice to say she was stunning. I say “hello, would you like to spend tonight with me? I have had a bad run of it and I don’t want to be alone tonight. Just be with me.”
She asks, “I’m not going to be your vacation fling.” she says it with an unturned lilt. Questioning and almost timid.
I smile crookedly and say “Not if you don’t want to be. Let us have this night. And in the morning if you want to leave you can, but I would much rather you stay.”
We sit drinking champaign. Small sips. There is a small orchestra sitting around. Like they know now one is dancing so why play when no one will listen.
I stand and hold out my hand, “Would you like to dance?”
She says, “but they aren’t playing any music.”
I say, “They will.”
And we dance.
The song we danced to: