The man, his music, the dope and the panel van became familiar territory in the succeeding months we spent in each others company. We made no pretence of love, but our non-monogamous relationship was, in the first instance, an anodyne to my sadness and eroded confidence.
I sat there in my bright red lipstick, my hair in a tight high plait, wearing my indigo “make an effort” clothing, and wondered what the gentle man who served me thought. The eggplant biryani was excellent, the music atmospheric and I had the odd sensation of being in a film…
The re-emergence of my creativity is worth more to me than a million dollars, and that is incredibly magical and sexy.
One of the first times I had sex in a car it was moving and I had the added concern of my boyfriend’s parents occupying the front seats as we drove from Melbourne to country Victoria. I have no recollection of where we had been, but I recall the interminable drone of their conversation as the brightly lit streets of the city slid past. I also knew where I was going when Warren stopped kissing me, looked deeply into my eyes, slid his finger under the elastic of my knickers and into my very wet pussy for the first time.
I’m loving his willingness to listen to and explore my ideas. That he hands me a pencil and paper and tells me to draw my ideas so he can see them too. And I know now that when the photoshoot begins he’ll start to layer his photographers insights into the mix.
Did I read too much in yr offhand comment? Maybe the card game was all you meant…
Sometimes I find myself craving the erotic build up of anticipation, of the need for touch, the flash of shared passion and spontaneity along with a strong sense of mutual concordance.
One page also reminded me to trust my intuition, which would be great except that my intuition seems to be sending me in two different directions. It’s so very easy to position your obvious sexual and creative desires within a course of action only to realise you’ve made another stupid life mistake and, what’s worse, one you’ve made before! At a point in time when it actually felt like I was making progress I now feel rather like I’m treading water – or going round in circles again.
Euphoric Danae, your virgin cunt
Dreaming on the hard oblivion
Loosed within the unexpectedness
of your claiming.
I wrote this poem about two weeks ago after the featured incident, and it’s been sitting in my drafts waiting for the right moment.
Part of the spectrum of light is the colour we refer to as Indigo. So you see the rainbow sometimes really does shine out of my…