we were talking 'bout porn, and i said i wanted to see and experience some that wasn't all about dehumanizing women, and that had women it in that sort remotely resembled me. too tall an order, i thought.
you vanished for a few hours while i hung out in the cafe with two unbelievably gorgeous men, sharing veggie wontons dipped in an incredibly sour red sauce and drinking thick, sweet coffee. then robyn popped in to say hi, and invited us all out to a mountain lake with her and her man, so we piled in her beat-up old car, and drove, smoking reefer on the way, the music loud. after hiking through the misty woods for a while, we came upon the hugest, clearest lake i have ever had the good fortune to see. robyn told us it had been gouged out of the ground a mere 2000 years ago by a huge glacier. the sides of the lake offered no shore, just a sheer, muddy drop-off into a deep pool. i could look down into the water and see the roots of the trees that resided next to the reflecting water, just under the surface. it was a cool, rainy day, but one of the men was so overtaken with the beauty he saw there he stripped down completely and took a run at the water, his bare feet digging into the dark, damp soil, flinging it up behind him, spattering mud onto his back and flexing buttocks. he leapt, arms and legs splayed, into the water and splashed down, hooting at the shock of cold, while we all stood on the shore, laughing and smoking.
the experience drained from us all, we made our way back to the car, robyn saying she had to get back to work, and me, curious to know where you had gone, wanting to be there when you returned.
i was dropped off at home, and my phone rang incessantly as i tried to fix myself some tea and biscuits. a woman was talking to me, telling me how much she needed help, she was standing outside the cafe, in pain, so much pain, and i told her i'd take a message, and give it to robyn when i saw her. the urgency in her voice left me unmoved, however.
and then you came home.
you skin was tan. you hair, bleached at the tips. you wore a roughly woven dark green vest with no shirt beneath it, and at your throat rested a thickly embroidered hemp-and-bead necklace. your body was scented, deeply scented, like spice and chocolate, and the women at the shop you told me you had been to, in search of the porn i desired, had written love notes to me all over every inch of the skin you had left exposed that day. you were smiling, and warm, and all of the words on your body spoke to me, singing my praises, singing about the love you carry around in yourself, for me. and when you took me in your arms, and tried to to talk about what you had seen at the sexy little store you'd been to, about how you'd professed your undying devotion and deep desire to bring me to the peak of ecstasy to the women there, they'd fawned over you, and tried to make sure that the next time we met, you'd be properly armed with everything required for my very important seduction.
you hadn't purchased porn, or even a toy, to stimulate me with. you'd only talked about me, with other people who might have understood, and they'd decorated you and layered you with fragrance, and as you laid me back and fell into me, the words they'd written on your arms, and cheeks, and throat, the ink there bled off of you and formed tiny, cold rivulets that seeped onto my own trembling flesh.
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