honeysucklenfreshmeat

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

I melted into something. It puddled there on the carpet like a crystalline pool of green.

All the points on my body that is the puddle lit up like stars. My constellation self glinted on the surface of the green like perhaps they were luminescent fish and not stars at all? But I did not make a very deep pool so there couldn’t be any fish there and anyway I had to pull myself back together in the shape of a girl so my girl body could climb back on the bed and melt into his boy body. I wonder if he became a pool too, if he had fishes or stars?

But then I wonder if I ever really was a green puddle because right now I feel like a dry log tossed into the flames of a big red fire. I crackle and hiss and my body is also made of fire. The skin on my arms is cracking in the shapes of snakes snaking across it and if you feel me I am so so warm and rumbling, like the fire that’s my body is moving like it’s a forest fire and it’s eating up everything that is there and turning it into something brand new and different. And I burn and burn and burn next to his body. I am burning myself up. And one of the sparks must have jumped over to him because he is also so so warm and moving with the forest fire rumble. And soon our two fires have found each other and we are one big red fire and you cannot tell where either of them ends but it doesn’t matter because they are just one. And our bones have started melting together and our skin is all gone and we are being fully consumed on the hot coals of his bed.

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

So my boyfriend casually drops that he listened to Ha Vay before we got together because it made him think of me. How did I find this man?

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

He calls me his wife even though no minister in their right mind would marry us. He calls me his, and I let him, even though I said I would never give a man that power. I give it to him. I give it to him so ardently that I half beg him to leave the marks of his teeth and the fingerprints of his bruises on my skin so there’s always physical evidence that I belong to him.

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

NEED

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, from "The Complete Novels of Mary Shelly,"

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

I love it when pulls down the collar of my shirt and sinks his perfect teeth into the skin below my collarbone.

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

“But it was a dream. We were wrapped in cotton, in silk threads, in webs, in moss, in fog, in the sea flavor of distance to be annihilated.”

— anais nin

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

It’s jarring, the moment I realize that no one has ever cared for me before. Cared for me. I have only ever been as good as what I can offer. And I can’t offer much, I��ve only got my heart which is strangely shaped and hard to hold onto, it doesn’t sit easily in your hands so nobody wants it. They only want what they can take and keep. My heart and I are a package deal. Nobody has ever wanted both. I realized that no one has ever cared for me before. I know this now because of him. And I don’t want to say it out loud and make it real and give validity to the idea that a man will make you whole, but I am whole, I am so whole and it’s him who’s fit himself inside me so perfectly that there is no room for emptiness anymore. And as ravenous as I am, as much as I want every part of him, as violent as that need is: there is nothing but effervescent softness clouding my mind because he cares for me. And I care for him. And it’s so, so pure and it’s so unwarranted and it’s so unconditional that it would still exist even if we could only glance at each other from a distance for the rest of our lives. I cry a little bit sometimes because I didn’t do anything to deserve this love. If anything all the terrible things I’ve done in my short life should have caused some great force to rip away any small happiness that I have. But here is this big happiness. This big happiness that has been placed right inside my hands and he’s there and he’s holding my strangely shaped heart in his and he’s not running away in horror. Even though everything I am is too much and somehow not enough at all. He lets me exist in the duality. No, he doesn’t just let me exist in it, he shares the duality. He is everything, and I am everything. And we are we, which is all there is. Everything.

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

A haze blurring my vision, soft unfocus. Pure desire with its hand on my throat, squeezing. It’s hand on my thigh, squeezing. I want to slip my fingers into the invisible seam at my chest and dig until I find whatever it is that he’s caused to grow in me and tear at it until it comes away in my hands and I can look at it, hot and pulsating and alive, so I can begin to understand it. But then I think, no, I do not want to remove it, hot and pulsating and alive (painful.) This lust is filling in all the gaps and empty spaces inside. This lust is turning me into an animal, more of an animal than I’ve ever been, more of an animal than I thought I could be, even though I know deep in my heart there is something ancient and feral in it. I am fuller than I ever been (I don’t even need to eat.) I am hungrier than I’ve ever been (I need him)

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

sensitivity is a precious thing. i love knowing how my heart can ache and swell with unrelenting love and compassion. i have such a gentle spirit and i love to love. i keep my hands soft for holding and i always reserve time to dream

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

It’s so cute the way his eyes unfocus and his face turns red when I run my hand up his thigh…

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

Arrivederci Baby, 1966, Ken Hughes

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[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

Susann Carmen Jagodzinska

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

I wasn’t prepared for how it would feel to love someone who loves you back. Peculiar feeling. The opposite of drowning but so much like drowning. Only instead of sinking further away, what’s filling my lungs is him and it’s filling and filling and I’m laying at the bottom of some foreign sea on my back but it’s okay, because surely I couldn’t stand if I wanted to and it’s so still and silent that I can picture him much clearer from here. And I wake up aching and aching and I forget the day I’ve lived because I’m aching and I go to bed aching because I need to reach out and touch him but the only thing there is to touch is myself in this empty bed so I pretend that my hands are his hands until the aching leaves just enough for me to fall asleep with tears drying on my face that I didn’t know I cried. I know the next morning I will ache again and it goes on and on and on and on until I’m finally in his presence - holy day. My body, though beneath the water, is on fire and my brain is on fire and my heart is on fire and my skin which is usually so cold would burn you if you touched it. A hum beneath my skin. A violent vibration in my veins. Something hot and glowing deep in the pit of me. And it all sounds so terrible and it is, it is! But I hope I feel like this forever. Even if it dissolves me from the inside out. Even if I die before I get to hold him again. Because he loves me, it’s okay.

[honeysucklenfreshmeat]

I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave.