Select: Shuffle

My playlist sings of loss
Pull up favorites
Spin the wheel
Shuffle
Shuffled steps
Head down
Contemplation
Musical augery
Dance in hopes dashed reverie
Shuffle foretells misery
Like it reads my heart
Empty suffused darkness
Distilled in smoke stained notes
Each record clicks in place
Bones rolled
In modern sacrifice
Mired in the present
Like a maze with no exit
Just beginnings
Middles
And blood drenched wrong turns
Dead ends decorated by bones

Emerge the dancer

Soft notes
Looking across the room
Into your eyes
Shocked recognition thrills up spine
Sad note of missed opportunities
Wistful reaching
Across the dance floor
Beat pulls us closer
Through the dancers
Their wild gyre
Obscuring the sight of you
Each re-emergence sending
Lightning through my heart
Step, step, step
Measured movements
Face to face
Hands clasp and on hip
Sway and burn into your eyes
Move together
Actions blurring in the fury of our passion
Past burned away
Until only now
And us
Remain

Valentine’s day 19

The problem with planning a day like this is there are always surprises. I completely missed that Tara was not ready to marry us. I didn’t anticipate that she would need comfort for saying no. And I didn’t anticipate having a scene in the car on the drive home. I’m completely exhausted. I don’t think I have another scene in me. At least not for a few hours. But how do I stall is the question.

The ladies are using the bathroom before we start again while I wait. I’ve dragged a stool to the center of the room and sit here pondering the next step. It’s not about sex. Though, for us, that’s a part of it. Maybe I need to bring us back to focus.

I walk into the bedroom. The sounds of our shower drift through the open door. A clear invitation but not what I think is needful, though it makes me smile. My girls are always very happy and considerate. Except when they are angry or sad or upset. They are by no means dolls.

But it’s my job to get them to here, where the world can’t touch us. And they make it so that my anxiety doesn’t spill out and sink me into depression. Because, I can’t think about my darkness when they are in need and by the time they are taken care of and I get a ‘Yes, Sir’ confirmation, all that inner turmoil has gone. Replaced by the deep glow of Dominance float.

For me that means a deep well of calm and light settled below the absolute certainty of control and love. It’s the best feeling in the world. I highly recommend it.

I am browsing through the closet for an outfit for my girls. Something matching perhaps? Or no, something suited to the next task. And despite my current inability to perform, I find myself excited to run my hands across the sweet flesh of Sara and Tara, after all I’m not a robot.

The black silk dress pants and cream blouse for Sara. No panties. I want her to feel the brush of silk over sensitive places.
For Tara, a walking harness made of white soft lace and the pink leash with the silver hearts.

I carry my selections out to the bedroom and lay each item out. Pants first, then blouse, then harness then leash. The anticipation builds in me. Pressure welling in my pelvis. A tightening that strums me like a violin string. Right! Music…

John Coltrane, “A Love Supreme” in its entirety. Perfect. The first strains spill out into the room calling like a siren. Luring my intrepid sailors to shore.

Sheet music

I will dream of you
when sleep pulls me under
and with every inhaled breathe
the thought of you pulls me forward into the unknown future
if I must
I will be as a dream stealing moments with you when your mind slumbers
as our hearts are drawn to each other
and live lives in that world we create for each other
but this dream
these words can not long contain us
we will burst forth.

You are the ember in my heart.
My home. My refuge.
If we be but dream, dreams fade.
But
NO
we are as souls bound together
as rhythm and melody in a song the world itself sings
You are my song.
My Cha’trez.
And I will sing you forever.

Too many zooz

 

The first notes I heard, that hard blat then pause, then blat, percussion, then escalation¬† into the meat of the music but those few sparse sounds at the beginning stay and echo through your blood. They get into your bones and make you move. The structure is there, reminiscent of samba or cumbia, but elevated with an energy that says listen we’re saying something important. It moves like a living sound inhabiting your headspace. A living breathing organism. If I compared it to modern music, I’d say early Fishbone but with a better more visceral sound. It’s layered and complicated with enough simplicity to tie it together. It doesn’t dumb itself down and it appeals to millions. The performance is great, riveting. The music itself sounds like the very best of Coltrane. If they can maintain that raw authenticity they will be remembered forever.