I come to my senses once more. It is over, over, the shock, the undoing. I awaken, dazed at first, immersed, floating upward.
Swimming through the colorful blur, to the surface, coming back to this again. It is always this I return to, after all. I realize I never left. Long time I did as I was told. Long time I went to bed early, chastely, resisting the waves of desire rushing over me, my hands ever tempted to touch myself, to touch you, whoever you were. Such were days innocent, yes? Pure, unreal, faraway. Simpler? no. Never simple. Simply suppressed.
This imperfect world, its tousled sheets, draw me in, in all their splendor. Time and space, their smoke and mirrors, change nothing. A softness, a scream, a pale light, darkness, a touch, a whisper, a tear. I find my own self here still in spite of it all, desire, this undeniable common bond that fuses me to my nature, no matter where I am, no matter when.
I want, want it all, not segmented, not inhibited, not tidy, but whole, messy, bloody and beautiful.