May 17th - Conflicted in Passion
The space in which you bring me, is a tempest of sensation in the very center of my being.
Where I've transcended the mundane moment to moment understanding of my existence, of time of space
of color, sound, I've become unbound from the conventionality of physics, of fact and theory.Where I break down into those elements and move beyond them.
Where the 'I' becomes a shattered yet more complete conceptualization and reality, a juxtaposed gestalt of contradictions, of paradox, of impossibilities, existing in harmonious crescendos inside of me... outside of me, for 'me' I've lost track of, even as I've become hyper aware of... as I move into that impossible, yet so possible place. Where only we go together, where only I've been, when you touch me... touch me with your soul
Kundalini rising... in me like never before... I feel lush constrictions of perfect spiritual coils of the tantric serpent invading me, layer by layer by layer. Like a black cobra of Egypt your love twines it's way past chakra after chakra into a deeper more cellular spiritual level, breaking me down. Going beyond the tantric into something yet unlabelled, as the universe fills me and unravels me.
And I become conflicted in my passion. In that perfect embrace. In that space of becoming and ending.
The intensity of the numinous flooding of my psyche and spirit, torrents of existence and complexity. I feel everything, more than I knew existed inside and outside of me. In that timeless space, I'm torn between dividing drives. Every fiber of my being aching and yearning to be free, to give more and more of myself unto you, to feel more to become more at union with that sweet unfolding of infinite sensation and love, to move into you, and you into me, into that great dance where all things move into all things and co-existence and unity is created above all in a great mass of chaos. But at the same time, feeling as if that freedom is so beyond the restrictions of my flesh, and even of my spirit. That my identity, my sanity, my self well be destroyed in the process. In that fear of death beyond death, of loss beyond loss, of an ultimate deconstruction... Of feeling myself suspended, once again, the fluttering moth before the flame. Part of me, screaming with every particle of me.. run, flee, hide. My mind translates that into visual images and fantasies of me running, running, cowering in the corner, scrabbling away, backing away from you as quickly as I can. My mind may play with those images, but my body... my body has long ago moved away from my control.
My mind doesn't have that power of my body to physically flee. As you touch me, as your fingers move over me, into me. My mind barely grasps with a stunned wonder, at the vibrations of spirit that rack my flesh. I watch in video slow motion as my back muscles conform to arch me over in unison to your fingers brushing over me, as my body trembles violently, my muscles twitch and betray me, where the movement of your eyes over the contours of my face is felt as strongly as your strong hands deep within the walls of my cunt. Where I spasm and contort and writhe in something beyond ecstasy, where everything I've ever read about in any classic poem, erotica or romance novel is a myth exploded into reality beyond my comprehension.
In that moment. Of conflicted passion. In my ache and desire of becoming, and my terror of ending, as I sit on the brink of being all things, and being nothing. Of consumption and destruction.
Do you really know, how I love you, how deep it goes. How blissed and blessed, yet undone and damned I feel. How brave and strong and how afraid I am. Is it equal to how tender and gentle, yet brutal and immediate you are... Me in you, and you in me.
The flip side, of this already multifaceted confliction...
Is in the dark underbelly of where our fears, where our fears and insecurities, match the power and strength of our passion and love.
Where now, even, after you've read and consumed my words, my rejoicing, my remembrance and embrace and slow healing of fear - in an attempt to build again a safe center from which to unravel and expand. From which to evolve. You came to me, came sweetly, quietly, gently, into my arms. Both of us longing for connection, love and peace.
And how fast that has disintegrated into something broken.
Accusations of my destructive power. Words tumbling from your mouth like small daggers. "You could have had me... if only". I've put you off, because I'm ill, because I wasn't quick enough, I didn't respond fast enough, or soft enough, or with enough passion. Because I held too much fear in me still and perhaps you read it as rejection. When what I wanted was reassurances, and what you wanted, I didn't give you the way you wanted when you wanted, and then... and then when I try to open you up the way you open me up, but doing it the way I do things... then your anger - your protector, hard and cold, and deep, shutting me out, closing me off. Destroying me slowly eating me. Choking off any words, thoughts, feelings I may still have surfaced, any safety for either of us draining away, rushing unstoppable like sand through spread fingers. How you accuse me, label me, reinforce my beliefs that if only I had done it right, done it better, it could have been, would have been.. perfect. Perfect for us. If. But. If. But.
I'm not, I can't. I fumble, I fumble in my body, in my mind. You always wanting more from me, softer, harder, more loving, more clever words from my lips... when all my mind produces in a love-drugged stutter. My fingers touching you wrong, my hesitations read as rejections, my fears read as betrayals. My desire to please you, to win your joy, to complete you, to move into your praise, your acceptance shackling me. Creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of defeat. And then your gone from me again. Gone, sleep taking you as surely as distance or even death. Closed to me, shut out, left. Alone. Alone.
Alone with the self I fear. Without the you I love.
And when I close my eyes to dream, in my alone, I remember you... over me, owning me, seducing me, moving into me again, each time deeper than the last. No matter how far you move from me, I hold you in me like a virus, you've invaded part of every cell. My heart quickens in anxious anticipation. Of how long we will build to center to be there again, in that space with one another. In some tantric garden of bliss. Where teeth and nails and tongues and breathy words steal segments of my aching soul. Missing you.
XO
Katt