Thoughts from a loud cafe

Open mic night just started here at Gallery Cafe in SF. Its so loud.

I want to scream and tear my hair out. I want to be bald again. I have no reason for this, need no reason, want honor heaped up at my feet and want to break beautiful things. I want the world to spin on its heels for me. I want days to pass and magic to run through my fingers.

I keep trying to write, but as the doorway pushes open I keep freezing.

Reach up and touch my boot, keep wanting leather, keep needing truths and those eyes to not lie. Too much displacement. And then across the phone he cackles at how predictable I am and I break. One break at a time til all I’m left with are tennis shoes and freefalling.

How can anyone serve such a broken thing as me?
How could I have expected him to mean what he said?
Shake head, feel foolish, too often the fool, always believing that people can change.
Problem is is that they do.

Hope offers itself out in dangers eyes and I dodge, dart, analyze, probe and walk away. Keep walking away.

Are you just trying to collect a whole set he asks, and another piece breaks. Does he really think that I am that shallow? Am I that shallow? What do I gain? Come on doc, turn the questions on yourself already.

Fists and fists, hands and fears and fangs sinking in but god so close so no I can’t and hold back. Beasts rumble in my belly and I hear a voice echoing out of my throat. I speak and am unbound.

I keep the kiss just out of reach as his body begs for me from the cross. Firsts unfold. You still have firsts? Yes, yes I do. Here’s a toast to me always having first times.

He says he feels distant, disconnected, and I throw out lines and don’t feel them picked up. Too many months away, this is going to be too many months away. I stare at visas, look into paperwork amd write another page of porn.

I watched him do homework and was washed in pride.
I close my eyes and remember, and flash, and long.
I then snap to, realize how cold I am, and the music gets louder.

It was so amazing to not have an empty bed.
Its strange to say those words, because since coming back stateside I’ve shared beds with two other individuals. And woke up alone.
To fall asleep curled up and wake up curled up in a different configuration, one of the things I’ve been missing. Not the same. But gods, amazing.

If I am collecting, I am getting a complete series, not a thousand copies of one thing. Each offers their own. But for now, one is amazing.

Somewhere across the sea he struggles and I am washed in pride.
I close my eyes and remember, and flash, and long.
I then snap to, realize how cold I am, and the music gets louder.


Lee Harrington

Lee Harrington is an internationally known sexuality, relationships, and personal authenticity educator. Having taught in all 50 states and in 6 countries, he brings a combination of playful engagement and thoughtful academic dialogue to a broad audience. An award-winning author and editor on gender, sexual, and sacred experience, his books include “Traversing Gender: Understanding Transgender Journeys,” and "Sacred Kink: The Eightfold Paths of BDSM and Beyond," among many other titles. He has been blogging online since 1998, and been teaching worldwide since 2001. Welcome to his world, and your chance to expand your mind and heart alike.

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