… but where is the light?
don’t go where i can’t follow…
to be dissolved…
Dear Gentle Sir,
I wonder what you would do if I were there now, with you? Would you want me? Would you trace the edge of each shiver you give me? Would you tease me with your hand or your tongue? How would you coax the first moan out of me… and then the third, the 17th, the 27th?
As I slip back into bed, I wonder these things. I wonder what it would take to make you hard? I slip out of my tank and lay on my tummy. I feel my breasts bulge against my weight, pressed hot atop my flannel sheets. I want you to see me. I want you to watch me lift my hips so I can slip out of my lace thong panties. I want you to finish the task when they get caught around my knees. Then, I want your gentle caress along my long legs so that I feel your firm desire. I want you to smell how wet you make me. I want you to lick your lips as you bend your knees, hold my hips, and spread me with your thumbs.
This pause we both take is its own kind of truth.
You underestimate the power you have, the lover you are. You hide such incredible fire inside; each spark of inspiration makes me moan and ache for you when you are gone. I am nothing special but with you, I become extraordinary. With me, you must explore… there are no limits. With me, you have a kind of permission that scares you; I know this, you know this. It frightens me, too, at times until I see you again – ablaze in all your glory – and I am reminded: holy fuck, are you ever beautiful.
Ah! And there it is: my first moan.
Not-So-Secretly Yours,
Lola xo
tired from the work…
abiding joy.
mysterious peace.
riotous rest.
the sound of things falling…
The smooth edges of my pussy glide up along your legs to your hips and farther still; I shift and adjust, finally resting at peace here behind you. I trust you with my weight. With the smoothest part of myself, I come to stillness atop your broad back. The oil slides. When I stroke and knead, your body winces from memories it will not speak – the details of all your hurts and joys I will likely never know.
There is a knot wrapped around one of your ribs, under your arm. I place my hand on this, this secret. My long legs straddle your width and our flesh mingles. My clit nestles. You are warm; I am grateful for your heat. With each inhale, I feel your expanse under the soft of my palm. I ease myself into this tender spot hidden under your arm, in the shadow of your bony cage.
For all our uncertainty, you allow me here – with you, in this place. I hold it dear, like a fawn who has yet to try her legs. I protect what lies under hand. This is what I do for you. And in return you close your eyes and breathe… just, breathe. This is what we are: a man and a woman, naked. We are the shadow.
And there is nothing between us. . . nothing except the hot breath of secrets.
far beyond yourself…
L
drink from this, my well of jubilation
seep into the crevice where stories blossom
triumphant
glorious
fearless
lead me to the water’s edge
see me as a vision
see me as i am
a woman
a man
a heart beating strong
a massive jumble of a puzzle
lost and found
drink from this, my well of silent suffering
seep into the crevice where laments thrive
searing
formidable
cleansing
my hand cups the truth
covers my mouth
and still you sing to me from tomorrow
i will meet you there
i will not falter
nor hide
there is no shame
in who or what has been
i will meet you
there
across a chasm i cannot fathom
i will meet you there
there
i will be
L
– Lola Moi –
blessings for the longest night…
All throughout these months
as the shadows
have lengthened,
this blessing has been
gathering itself,
making ready,
preparing for
this night.
It has practiced
walking in the dark,
traveling with
its eyes closed,
feeling its way
by memory
by touch
by the pull of the moon
even as it wanes.
So believe me
when I tell you
this blessing will
reach you
even if you
have not light enough
to read it;
it will find you
even though you cannot
see it coming.
You will know
the moment of its
arriving
by your release
of the breath
you have held
so long;
a loosening
of the clenching
in your hands,
of the clutch
around your heart;
a thinning
of the darkness
that had drawn itself
around you.
This blessing
does not mean
to take the night away
but it knows
its hidden roads,
knows the resting spots
along the path,
knows what it means
to travel
in the company
of a friend.
So when
this blessing comes,
take its hand.
Get up.
Set out on the road
you cannot see.
This is the night
when you can trust
that any direction
you go,
you will be walking
toward the dawn.
– Jan Richardson –
that is why…
Today I believe in the possibility of love; that is why I endeavour to trace its imperfections, its perversions.
– Frantz Fanon –
enchantment that lasts…
Can the purpose of a relationship be to trigger our wounds? In a way, yes, because that is how healing happens; darkness must be exposed before it can be transformed. The purpose of an intimate relationship is not that it be a place where we can hide from our weaknesses, but rather where we can safely let them go. It takes strength of character to truly delve into the mystery of an intimate relationship, because it takes the strength to endure a kind of psychic surgery, an emotional and psychological and even spiritual initiation into the higher Self. Only then can we know an enchantment that lasts.
― Marianne Williamson ―