Saturday, June 9, 2018

I've Got This Nasty Habit: When I Need Something, I Just Reach Out and Grab It




One of the things about being psychologically stimulated in all things sex is that you can get away with doing just about anything, un-clocked, because it's all how you look at it.  Like asking a hot femme who she goes to for waxing/sugaring because you're read as a femme and, from what you've observed, this is a perfectly acceptable question even though you think it's completely insane to ask someone that.  Then, you go to that exact person. And, as it turns out, the woman rubbing sugar on your stuff ends up telling you all of the complimenting things said femme has said about you. An accidental messenger that doesn't understand the language they are reciting back.

It's something of self-topping.

It's something of flirtation.

It's something that no one wearing their vanilla visors would ever be able to catch.

Pure enjoyment.

Oh my, Ms. Sugar, what your hands have in common.

(What? Arrest me.  It will just turn into a scene, anyway.)


[pause]

"Can I ask you about your hanky?"

It's such an obvious and odd question.  They know enough to know that it's sexual, but they also test it enough to ask permission.

I'll answer.

There's no way I'm going to let them hear me tell them no, mid-day and with nothing earned.

[pause]

It's been months of this.

My heart true as ever.

Somehow, I'm still being accused of the most basic violations I would never commit.

What can you do when you're locked out and there are twists to be turned and rug burn to be caused?

A gentleman is a gentleman

is a pansy is a pansy.

But, in the end, I am a hopeless romantic:

When I fuck her, I'll use both of my middle fingers so that I may feel closer to you.




be well; be loved,

k.

(title: Fugazi. I can't stop listening to the Repeater album.  I know, I know. So meta.)
(image: Alexandra Kehayoglou, "Shelter for a Memory" made of 100% natural wool. Click on the image to see it up close)
Feeling the Freedom 90 lyrics, yet again, tonight.

I won't let you down
I will not give you up
Gotta have some faith in the sound
It's the one good thing that I've got
I won't let you down
So please don't give me up
'Cause I would really, really love to stick around, oh yeah
Thank you, George Michael, for your blatant and an unapologetic faggotry.  You were an inspiration to me and mine. 

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