Dirty Hue

SOC Writing _ 30.12.20

 Dirty Hue

It hurt me too, your dirty hue – hit me where I was unprotected, unexpected – looming over me with your glaring eyes, clearly hurt, out for blood – you want answers, so I give them – give myself away in explanations to my mother, to the other, those lacking my sense of my legitimacy – not what I feel matters - to translate this into tongue is a different proposition of monstrous proportions – cannot say what feels – what is below – can I? How? Teach me to say what I feel - what I sense – what is mine to give – up – a comfort, a discomfort – something is not right – so, say it now, say it loud – say it! In the morning after and I am still feeling, reeling from what I did say, did write to them, gave them a piece of my mind – was articulate and yet not in their face - not in the moment – the moment is precious – it is you in the real – in full flight – actually. Pause, get in touch with these feelings and let fly – just speak – when I did that in class I swore at her – just copied what came out of her – I want more eloquence, more poise - what I say matters and I will take my time – and I will learn to speak up as soon as I know it’s a no, or a jubilant yes! Please, more, take me to the floor – unwrap me – your present - our presence a delight in the night – guarded so – rightly, but delicious all the same – more of this naughty pleasure please – almost a begging quality – I like that too – will you let me beg you for more? – be astounded at how far I will go for my desire? This desire, grounded in darkness – in inky black, in the mire and shadow of the valley - where mist’s rise to cover the rutting deep. This. Cavern of my hot love has found its place in the midst of the mystical plane – abide there lightly to begin, then find my path to that hut in the un-worldly place of the below - the dark and mysterious and oh so sensuous depths of me – a more fertile place to being my expansions.