It’s late and dark and still. I’m tired. I’m in bed. So is Jack. We were fighting before. The bad kind. But we’re not now. It’s done. Now we’re sleepy.
Jack asks if I want to have sex. I am so tired I can barely move. Before we went to bed – after we had been [...]
Men crying. It’s a such a secret thing. To see a (stoic, macho, my-kind-of) man cry you often have to be in a pretty intimate space with him and something rather relentlessly unpleasant has to be going on. (So you can kind of join the me-likey dots here.)
These pictures are from a 2005 project by [...]
Saturday morning. Weather like April. ‘Cause it is April. Sunny and rainy.
Never start with weather. Especially when you are writing about sex. Never start with the weather.
Saturday night then. Instead. Jack’s here. I missed him so much and now he’s back I feel a little like I still miss him. Like there’s still a bruise [...]
I live in a temperate climate. By the sea, in fact. It rains. It’s windy. It’s April and the weather is cruelest-month-typical, with sun turningabout into rain and squall quicker than my moods.
But some nights in my bed, in my head it’s wetter even than April showers. And wettest of all when my mind of [...]
What gets me, what makes me cringe when I have to tell people who and what I am (which I don’t do often, but maybe a little more often than you might think) is the fact that I know that as soon as they hear I have a small predilection for tied-up smacky-smack excitement in [...]
Lately, in my head, has been a man. And he is quite insistent. Not going anywhere. His hands are tied behind his back.
Tied with rope. That’s odd for me. Not handcuffs. Not duct tape. Rope. Rough, tight rope. Tight and firm enough to make his muscles bulge as he tests its strength.
I have to imagine [...]
Today Jack gets back.
Although I won’t see him until the weekend, I would like to know his plans. When his feet touch shore. And I can’t help feeling that I ought to know. That, as his girlfriend, I ought to be more connected.
For all that I am so controlling in certain specific instances; for all [...]
I lie in bed. Replaying things we’ve done in my head. What he wore. What he said. Him.
I have this metal bar. It has holes for ankles at each end and holes for wrists nearer the middle. The whole thing opens right up on a hinge and fixes closed with a nut and bolt. It’s [...]
