Simultaneous Storms

Walls of white wet canvas
Violent serenade of rain surrounds us

Blackness all that eyes do see 
Two silhouettes moving to nature’s music, free

Arms encase me, following your command
From your lips unto my hands

Violet vibration hums inside
Outside Magenta buzzes and glides

Storm clouds brew within us too 
Need rumbling through to every curve and thew

Agonizingly teasing, fast-fast-slow
Over and over your answer is, “No”

Eager leg lifted, up and over yours
Talented fingers have me begging for more

“That’s my girl,” as viscous need builds
Storms eye focused, bodies thrilled

Face to face, our silhouettes lay 
Flashes of lightening strobe and play

Illuminating your powerful, hungry eyese 
Every ounce of me complies

“Please, Sir,” I plead, again and again 
“Yes,” you reply amidst thunderous din

Crashing waves of passionate release
Quiet and still, on the outside, I please

“Good girl,” whispered in my ear 
Encapsulating arms pulling me nearer

In the pitter patter of drops and strumming breeze 
Kneeling, I honor upon my knees

To outer storm’s symphony we close our eyese 
Storm inside quieted, our lullaby

~It’s raining here, and I was reminded of this evening, when M and I enjoyed the storm. (REPOST)

Come Away With Me

  
Photo chosen was inspired by the lyrics from “Come Away With Me” by Nora Jones. It was taken in the Alleghany Mountains, on a beautiful lake in Pennsylvania. We’d just come off the water in our kayaks, M and I. I often daydream about sneaking away to that spot, kayaks and a tent, just the two of us.

Lyrics:

Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song

Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can’t tempt us
With their lies

I want to walk with you 
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won’t you try to come

Come away with me and we’ll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I’ll never stop loving you

And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I’m safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you

To come away with me in the night
Come away with me

Post inspired by The Daily Post Photo Challenge, Half-Light

Ethereal

Help me to unzip this skin,
To peel away the debris,
Allow me to inhale
For a moment, carefree

Take command, my whole being, 
Chisel away each demand,
Silence the earthly din
With the grip of your hands

Strip me down and bare me,
Make me look into your eyes,
Sinking into your soul, 
Cradled, where my truth lies 

Let me be your blank canvas, 
Tether us, one energy,
An ethereal existence,
No space or time, just free 

Hold On Forever

I’ve been in a rut for a while as far as my job is concerned.  No matter how hard I try to have a positive attitude, there’s no well left from which to draw. It has depleted me, and as much as the rest of my life is filled with amazing things happening, I can’t seem to draw from it and fill my well.  And sharing with M just how down I am, how emotionally frail I feel regarding my job, has been difficult. 

Although my journey has helped me to expose myself to him, the deepest crevices of my soul, needing him this much is the most vulnerable I ever been. 

For about the last year, I’ve been stuck in this weird cycle I can’t seem to stop. My stress level will soar, and I’ll share with him that I need help finding ways and making time to fill my well. In so many ways, we’ve done so, building into our daily lives these wonderfully connecting things that bring light to our days, and also help me focus on the positive. Even so, I feel as if my well is drawn upon faster than I can fill it. I will crash, and feel so deflated. I’ll share it with him, and he is so supportive and helpful, but then I feel shame, because I can’t bare to feel like a burden. So I’ll find myself in an upswing, motivated by guilt and shame, and wanting to add something to his well instead of drawing from it, but that doesn’t last long. How could it? Then I’ll crash, again, in an endless cycle. 

Truth? I’m scared. Terrified, actually. Behind this feeling of the deepest vulnerability  I’ve ever felt, is difficulty trusting. I can’t seem to make the best of the now, because I’m too busy not trusting the future, not trusting M, and not trusting me. I’m allowing those same old issues to seep through: shame, guilt, and issues with worth, even though this man sitting next to me not only allows me to lean on him, but he cradles me in his palm and guides the way. Even though I know there’s light at the of the tunnel, and that M intends to help me shorten the length of that tunnel. I know he’s doing his best to help me transition into a new job, and that is scary, too. 

And as powerful as this relationship feels, as freeing and supportive it is, there are some things in me that this dynamic won’t fix. Can it support? Will it lift me and empower me? Yes! But’s it’s not even fair to think it will fix these feelings in me which existed long before he and I became one – that power lies within me. I’m so fortunate to have him, to have this relationship to lean on. To count on.

These lyrics really hit home right now. I need to trust. I need to let go. I need to hold on….forever….

Another night and here we are again
All our faults laid out ahead
Let it out, then let it right back in
All those voices in your head

And we both know everything, but we can’t learn to leave
So I’ll tell you what you need

First thing: we make you feel better
Next stop: we pull it all together
I’ll keep you warm like a sweater
Take my hand, hold on forever

Just fall apart if you need to
I’m here and I won’t leave you now
Don’t look down
Hold on forever

Lay down all your troubles end to end
They could reach up to the stars
So many roads, you don’t know where you’ve been
But you still know who you are

And if I seem preoccupied, I’m wondering what to do
So here’s my recipe for you

First thing: we make you feel better
Next stop: we pull it all together
I’ll keep you warm like a sweater
Take my hand, hold on forever
Just fall apart if you need to
I’m here and I won’t leave you now
Don’t look down
Hold on forever

And we both know everything, but we can’t learn to leave
So I’ll tell you what you need

First thing: we make you feel better
Next stop: we pull it all together
I’ll keep you warm like a sweater
Take my hand, hold on forever
Just fall apart if you need to
I’m here and I won’t leave you now
Don’t look down
Hold on forever

Just take my hand; hold on forever
Hold on forever

Just take my hand; hold on forever


~Rob Thomas

Letting Go…

I need you. I am ashamed.

Those words are maybe the most difficult I’ve ever spoken. I’m not perfect, and I never was. I never will be, although I spent way too many years of my life hoping I could be, wishing I could live up to other’s expectations, and hoping I’d be enough.

And for most of my life, I tried really hard not to need anyone, even though I poured my heart into every relationship I ever had. I let others need me, but I couldn’t need in return. I mean, I could, I just couldn’t let the other know just how much.

I also jumped in with two feet into anything I did – relationships, school, jobs, everything. I found strength within myself to get through anything, regardless of the cost to me. It was never a question of whether I could, I just did.

I did what I thought I should. I put others first. I came through. You could count on me. Always.

But that had a high cost. So high.

It has taken me a long time, but I’ve come to a place where I can tell others when I need them, although it’s not always easy. I still feel shame, but I’m trying.

With M, I’m so open about my needs, but it feels all tangled at times, because I have this intense need to please him first and to seek his permission to put my needs on the priority list. And when I fail at making myself clear in what I need or expressing it fully, because I’m ashamed, I end up feeling even worse, as if even he isn’t making my needs a priority. I’ve made that mistake more than I care to admit.

Over the last few years, I’ve shared with M how much I need him, but my job is an issue that has only gotten worse. I’ve tried to express just how much worse, and what I need because of it, but I’ve not always succeeded. Now, I’m at a place where, despite the amazing things going on in our relationship and with my girls, I feel like I’m drowning. My job is sucking the life out of me. It has slowly, over the course of 13 years, completely depleted me, and it has far reaching affects in all areas of my life. I’m running on fumes at this point, and the thing is….I know I have the strength to get through. I do. It’s a part of me which will never ever go away. I can dig deep and do whatever I have to.

But I don’t want to be strong in this case, not anymore. The cost is far too high. Putting that face on and stuffing those feelings away so I can get through turns me into someone I’m not, someone I don’t like. Someone who isn’t ME.

And I NEVER want to feel like a foreigner in my own skin again.

In order to get through it, I need M more than I ever have. I need him to be the life raft. I need him to help me to not lose me. Ever again. I need my needs to matter as much to him as they do to me….and in order for him to be able to fully do that….I need to lay them in his lap and let go of the shame I feel for needing him as much as I do.

Slowly, and layer by layer, I have shared my deep need for him as well as my needs. I have laid them all out, open and honest, absolutely and completely.

I can’t say my shame is gone, but it’s one step closer to letting it all go. And it’s allowing us to go even deeper together. We are building the structure we need to get through it, the structure I need. It’s going to be a process, one we’ll have to tackle together.

And my strength? It’s still here. He’s my raft right now. I’m hanging on with all my might.

But I’m still kicking my feet like a mofo, while I hang on.

Humor Language

We laugh a lot, my husband and I. Our laughter is part of the glue that has held us together for more than 22 years, even through the toughest of times. Honestly, we are probably more childish than we have a right to be, laughing at things that probably shouldn’t be funny anymore. But, they are. Every day.

My husband is quick and witty and I frequently laugh so hard I cry. He is silly and irreverent. So am I! He makes fun of me all the time, but I’m a good sport. And, I dish it right back.

Our humor spills into the bedroom, too. It should, really, because inhibitions are so silly at this point for us. Last night, we laughed far too hard for far too long about Goulash. Don’t ask! But I was reminded of some of the other silly things we’ve said or done in the recent past.

– He asked me if his hand felt better over or under. Instantly, I thought of Airplane 2, the movie. Oveur, Unger and Dunn, in the cockpit (hehe). So, I began reciting some of the dialogue and he chimed in until we were giggling fiercely. It goes like this:
‘Simon: Captain, your navigator, Mr. Unger, and your first officer Mr. Dunn.

Clarence Oveur: Unger.

Unger: Oveur.

Dunn: Oveur.

Clarence Oveur: Dunn. Gentlemen, let’s get to work.

Simon: Unger, didn’t you serve Oveur in the Air Force?

Unger: Not directly. Technically, Dunn was under Oveur and I was under Dunn.

Dunn: Yep.

Simon: So, Dunn you were under Oveur and over Unger.

Unger: Yep.

Clarence Oveur: That’s right. Dunn was over Unger, and I was over Dunn.

Unger: So you see, both Dunn and I were under Oveur, even though I was under Dunn.

Clarence Oveur: Dunn was over Unger, and I was over Dunn.’

His hand felt better Unger until I was Dunn.

– I was sitting at his feet after my shower and he was stroking my hair, then moving downward with his hands. His knees were crossed, so I was leaning back on one of them, loving the attention. I asked if I could go to bed, hinting that I wanted him to take me to bed. He said, “How many knees do you need? You’re on my knee already, now you just want my heiny and my weenie, too.”

It’s true, I did.

– Just after sex one night, he looked me in the eyes and said, “Rada, rada.” Anyone who has seen the gawdawful cartoon, Chowder, will know how ridiculous this is, but we laughed, hysterically.

What is Schnitzel anyway?

– My sex drive has dramatically increased over the years. He said to me, after sex one night, that he hoped I didn’t have something wrong with me like in the movie Phenomenon. You know, like some brain disorder that heightened my sex drive exponentially until I died or it vanished. Morbid, but funny and endearing in a twisted sort of way.

I laughed.

– He used my body parts as a one man band. To Blink 182, The Rock Show. That song actually played while I was having sex. I’m not proud, but I did laugh uncontrollably.

– Once, he spanked me with the spaghetti strainer. Yes, that semi-circular tool with the holes in it. Why? Who knows. But, during the first few spanks, I heard him giggle under his breath a little. Usually, it’s me laughing inappropriately during a spanking. I didn’t say anything at the time, but after the spanking, my butt looked just like that damn spaghetti strainer, circles and all.

We threw it away, but I giggle every single time I strain the noodles, now.

– Pancake spatula. Same as above. I don’t know why, maybe spanking makes him hungry? Anyway, flipping pancakes = giggles at my house. Every. Single. Time.

I think humor has languages, just like love. You either speak the other’s humor language or you don’t; you either get the other’s sense of humor or you don’t. For me, that’s a deal breaker.

My husband and I, we speak the exact same humor language. In fact, it was a deal maker! We do it so well, that often times a look is all that’s necessary to make a connection, to get what the other is thinking. I think that’s gotten better with age, just like the sex. Sometimes at the same time.

Tucked In

I love the bedtime routine M and I have established. It is maybe our most deeply connecting time of the day. As M showers, I take care of last minute business, and when he comes down the stairs, I’m kneeling and waiting at the edge of the bed (actually, I usually scurry to get into position as his feet hit the last few stairs, as I described in this post). 

When he comes to me, he always says a few words, kisses me and leans in to cradle me into him, and I wrap my arms round him, a full body embrace. He calls this our exhale. It’s our time to breath out all the days’ stress, to take off all our hats, and just be. He and I. He the one for whom I kneel and lean on and I, the one for whom he stands tall, but also leans on.

Many times, even if there’s to be kinky fuckery happening, he still wants to cuddle me, and talk a bit first. For the longest time, he’d tell me to lie down and he’d join me. Sometime over the last few months, it’s naturally evolved. 

Now, he’ll tell me to lie back….and he tucks me in. Pulling the covers up, he will often pinch, pull, bite, or slap my tender bits, then tuck the covers up under my chin, smooth out the covers, and kiss my forehead. He’ll slide in next to me, pull my leg up over him and we’ll talk (which is difficult if his hand roams, and it usually does!). 

M does so many things which communicte to me how much he cares. But this one, as its evolved as part of an evening routine he devised and instituted, one which means so very much to me, is more than just feeling his care. 

It’s a seemingly small gesture, but it feels much larger to me. It feels like M further embracing the small and most vulnerable parts of me that I tucked away for so long, the ones who desperately need to feel accepted and cradled. It feels like me allowing him to do just that. 

And it feels so good. 

Turn Me On

Like a flower waiting to bloom 
Like a lightbulb in a dark room 
I’m just sitting here waiting for you 
To come on home and turn me on 
Like the desert waiting for the rain 
Like a school kid waiting for the spring 
I’m just sitting here waiting for you 
To come on home and turn me on 
My poor heart it’s been so dark 
Since you’ve been gone 
After all you’re the one who turns me off 
You’re the only one who can turn me back on 
My hi-fi is waiting for a new tune 
My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes
I’m just sitting here waiting for you 
To come on home and turn me on 
Turn me on

Nora Jones

This is how I feel, on my knees, waiting for M to come down the stairs…..

Even 

even in his sleep,
his arm lifts as soon
as mine begins its
slide beneath his,
seeking his heat and security

even as I sleep, when I turn
to the other side, he follows to cradle me, hand traveling up my body, coming to rest around my neck, arm draping over mine

for a moment, his fingers
slowly trace the length
of my neck to my hairline,
sliding into my hair to grab
a handful, resting his fist

after a few exhales
have passed,
his hand slowly
resumes it’s place
around my neck

even in sleep, I am his

Skeleton Key

I live in your words
Breath in every syllable
Take sustenance in every 
Roll of your tongue 
Each tooth-touch and 
Lip-biting pronunciation
Snuggling into your context 

And your words!
They flutter from your soul
Alive, fertile 
Taking root in my soul
Caressing my emotions
Sewing me into your will
And stitching me into your desires

Your words touch everything 
That was once untouchable 
Telling everything untold 
Your words hold my beating heart 
They lift me up, challenge me
And inspire me
I, the keyhole with the pouting lip

Your words are the gentle scrape 
Of metal against metal
The tumble and the click
Acknowledging my desperation 
For approval 
And my absolute delight in your praise 

Speak to me
My skeleton key
Unlock me