Raconteur

-storyteller

When someone shares your heart all pain is mutual.

I’d stop you, but it’s really not my job

to stop you.

My job is to love you

love myself

and try to always let you go.

If you told me you could breathe fire

scorching the wind, set it howling,

each time you sang

If you told me you could fly

fast and surefooted in the clouds

above my foggy head

If you told me you could speak 

to the deaf, hear the mute’s 

wordless babbling cries for help -

the story no one’s heard

My heart would tremble yet.

A man walks past the deli counter

then stops, staring right at me.  

He had my number from a previous visit.

I stood him up.

Yet here he was, and 

I simply didn’t know what to say

other than “Busy.

I’ve been busy, and I’m leaving soon.”

Why do I do this?

I want to light a fire on the the world

in the hearts of every person near me

who can hear me at all

I want them to cry out in pain

pleasure surprise

I want them to die

a little

as I have

I want them to know me

I want them to love me

I want to penetrate them all

mind body and soul

so they feel me

so they understand

the need I have to love

and be loved.

I want them to grow full with my child

the child of my mind and heart

a creature of affection

that will remain with them

for the rest of their lives

feeding steadily on their hearts

as I feast

That how it feels, you know?

After I’ve loved

After I’ve touched

After I’ve moved

Like a meal after fasting for a lifetime.

“Everything is about sex - except sex which is about power.”

– House of Cards

“Let’s be clear. My body is yours to do with as you please, but yours is mine to do the same.”

– Dom