DIARY
The sky in your eyes
I'm looking at your eyes. There is a sky in your eyes. Fluffy white clouds on a foggy blue background. The white and blue blend into a beautiful hue, covering your pupils and sclera. "You're quiet." I pause for a moment to appreciate the experience. "Your eyes are beautiful. They look like the sky." I stroke your eyelids gently with my fingertip.
The clouds turn into raindrops as tears well up behind them. Unseeing eyes are crying. "That is the most beautiful thing anyone has said to me. Thank you." You still see many things better than most. As your vision faded, you stopped seeing anything but light many, many years ago. It then faded into complete darkness. I would like to know how you experience beauty. You place your hand on my arm and leave it there. "You are beautiful." I smile. You smile too. Beauty isn't inherently visual.
You take my glasses off before we play. I wouldn't want to break them. My field of vision is clear for about 20 centimetres, and then everything starts to blur into moving shapes and colours. "I can see you better now."
We rock back and forth in our embrace. I can relate to your impairment, even if it's only a shadow compared to the literal darkness you live in. You see darkness, I see shapes and colours. And yet, we see so many things clearly most people don't see. In the dark, your soul shines like a small sun. Two small suns. With a clear blue sky and white clouds.
In The Arms Of Sleep
Sleep will not come to this tired body now
Peace will not come to this lonely heart
There are some things I'll live without
But I want you to know that I need you right now
I need you tonite
You are wearing my cap. You like to pull it over your nose and inhale the scent of my hair and skin. Engulfed in darkness and scent. I grab and twist your earlobes as you remain hunched down and chastise you in the way you so prefer. I was looking for that. I sense your inclination as we make our way out of the party and I think the others can sense our connection as well. You stand tall and look at me, the question silent in your eyes. I agree with your notion and we gesture for our friends to leave. Even the drunk grows quiet and wishes us on our way in a polite manner. Bellies full and our friends happy. We will head in different directions.
I steal a kiss from her sleeping shadow moves
Cause I'll always miss her wherever she goes
And I'll always need her more than she could ever need me
I need someone to ease my mind
But sometimes a someone is so hard to find
I descend from the theatre park towards the dark waterfront. I think about you, walking through the empty, silent city, like me. I feel the cold air in your nostrils. Your thumping heart. Your eyes are closed. Did you have a run? The pavement lights flicker on the water in the bay. The absence of humans and movement, the dark emptiness and silence of the water are very beautiful. I create a ripple in the void as I make my way home. My feet make no sound on the pavement. I feel your lips on my collarbone. Your palms on my waist, right on the silk underdress, tucked away under the thick woollen overcoat.
And I'll do anything to keep her here tonite
And I'll say anything to make her feel alright
And I'll be anything to keep her here tonite
Cause I want you to stay, with me
I need you tonite
He sent it to me many years ago. In the arms of sleep. That's what he listened to, when he couldn't find the words to tell me his need. That was and is my need too. Soon I will be able to relax in your arms again. Your skilled lips and warm tongue and breath moving exactly in the way you know awakens my craving and ardour. I look forward to the content half-sigh, half-grunt you let out when my feet start trembling violently of excitement underneath your frame. You are a dedicated follower of the principle that your woman will be in the state like that of a small seal, squawking, slippery, friction vanished in a waterlogged pool of heat, and I am your small seal. I slip from the grasp of your probing fingers like a fish, and you get all the more excited and determined to catch me in your grasp.
She comes to me like an angel out of time
As I play the part of a saint on my knees
There are some things I'll live without
But I want you to know that I need you right now
Suffer my desire
Suffer my desire
Suffer my desire for you
Vignettes, part 1.
I was reminiscing and had the urge to create a small set of vignettes. Each vignette addresses a different person, and they descend backwards in a chronological order.
♤♤♤
Prickly, electrified butterflies dance inside my chest. "I'd like to argue about that further. I'm tired, however." "No wonder. We've been discussing for 13 hours." Listening to your voice is like having warm honey with vanilla cream slowly poured on my tongue. You would find it amusing, no doubt, to know I'm listening to your ardent political ten-second-long voice message, over and over again.
Seeing you unexpectedly twice is a coincidence, seeing you unexpectedly thrice is a synchrony. Seeing you for the fourth time is a measure you took, watching me intently as I focused on my work and shut out the world around me. I wonder how long you had been sitting there, observing me silently. And when I have a synchrony I will walk through the door that has been opened. At a distance I can tell that the excitement is mutual. I could drown in your eyes. Like deep water which I will gladly allow to engulf my body in its cold, fateful embrace.
♤♤♤
He appears, exactly on time. He has arrived ten minutes early as usual. "Shall we go outside?" "Yes, yes, let's go!" I've grown fond of this routine. And judging by your eagerness to make sure the following week follows protocol, you have too. Very fond indeed. We step outside. People whisk by and we stand there, while I make him see the things I see and know the beautiful language of my soul. Minutes, half an hour passes. Neither of us move away from the other. 今天是阴天。It's cloudy today.
The drizzle tries to make itself known by soaking his coat. He doesn't mind. "Is it true that in China a gentleman should refrain from giving an umbrella to his lady friend due to bad luck?" I chuckle softly. "There are other ways to show devotion." He chuckles nervously back at me and grows quiet, and the words he doesn't say echo in my head. "Next week, same time, same place?" "Yes. So it's settled, and I will see you then? Surely?"
♤♤♤
Although we've known each other for a while, neither is a particularly social personality. It has taken some time for us to see the potential for closeness in the other. Tasteful art, however, is something we both know how to create and appreciate. She sits next to me and observes my work. She leans into me cautiously, her eyes unflinching. "Have you read the Dream of the Red Chamber?" "I very likely will have soon." "Well, if someone reserves that one, I will know who it is. I writhe in by bed because it is so enjoyable." Later she sends me a documentary about imperial dynasty clothing. "The chubby girl in the Tang dress is especially appealing." I can see what she means.
Summer goes by. I get the urge to speak to her first when I return from a week in the wilderness. She responds immediately. "Where were you?" "A scouting event." "Let's not try for a relationship." "Tell me more." "Every time I've dated a scout, it has ended sadly." I smile at her. In 2009, as we were about to be torn apart, my partner told me: your future spouse will be a child of the wilderness, of nature. I chuckle. Over ten years later there is no spouse in sight. I can sense her smile. You're no housewife. Perhaps you shouldn't find a spouse at all. Live as a free woman. Free with me close to you.
♤♤♤
The frost thickens outside of the window. We've been cooking dinner without wearing clothes, and I shudder against him. He looks at me. "Are you cold?"
Without waiting for an answer, he disappears into his bedroom and swiftly returns with a chamanto, a large, thick poncho-like alpaca wool garment. He is dressed in one himself. I throw the cloth over my head disappearing inside the bulging, warm, hooded cloth like a baby. Typical Chilean craft. He honours his cultural heritage. We will be a lot warmer soon.
It's late and the sauna closeby is unoccupied. We run silently together through the glistening forest, wearing nothing but our chamantos, open the door and a gush of warm air greets us. We remove our chamantos and enter the room, basking in the residual heat. He looks at me and makes the small gesture he knows I will understand. I smile. Settled, he lies down, head in my lap. His eyes are closed. I stroke his long hair, face and neck softly. We have all the time in the world.
♤♤♤
I wake slowly. His warm body is comforting next to mine. I open my eyes and find him staring at my face intently. "Morning, dear." "Morning." "You got up last night and it didn't seem like you were awake. You spoke to someone." I regard his face. There is a reason I prefer to sleep on my own. You have accepted that. He nuzzles his bearded cheek slowly across my temple. "I can't see your invisible friends. But I trust they're kind to you." This is why I've chosen to be close to you. Your energy is weighty and grounded. You keep me down to earth and still accept the part of me you can't access. Thank you.
He smiles to himself, stretches and stands up. I scratch his lower back gently, just above the buttocks. He grunts and sighs contentedly. "Would you like to have apple porridge for breakfast?" I smile at him, remembering his bear-like embrace and growl from the evening before as well as my sweaty, slippery skin, flushed face and neck and unrestrained low moans. "I'm grateful for anything you make for me." Soon there is a pleasant scent wafting from the kitchen. I'm staying beneath the duvet, trying to remember in a waking state who was there with me in the night.
♤♤♤
Dinner is finished, and so are we. The bed is hard, but he is soft. There is a large, gaping scar across his belly. A reminder of his hernia operation. I trace my finger softly along his scar. He is silent. Then, after a moment, he wraps his arms tight around me and leans his chin into my neck. None of us feels the need to say anything. A moment passes. Then we stand and go to the shower. He is meticulous and gentle, massaging the soap in my hair, washing them and rubbing my armpits, navel, vulva and feet gently with his fingers. I don't know of any greater comfort than being washed in this manner. He closes his eyes and exhales slowly as I give him the same treatment.
We sit at the station. A gust of wind rustles the leaves on the ground. Soon it will be autumn. His eyes glitter with a line of moisture above the lower eyelid. "You are going home." "I am home. I am home here right now. I don't want to leave." I know what you mean. It's the nature of life to come and go in cycles. The cyclical nature of things only needs to be accepted. I consider the sadness it brings to be equally beautiful as the joy it brought with it. "It's a good thing that you're sad. It means that you have had a good and meaningful experience. If it was a bad experience you wanted away from, you wouldn't feel sad." He lowers his eyes and a tear falls. I feel my own rise behind my eyelids. "You are amazing. Speaking with you I feel better." A warm flicker moves across my chest. "I will send you good things on your way." The train arrives, and he is soon gone, disappeared in the distance. I am content.
♤♤♤
Medicine packages litter the table. We've just finished watching a film and eating pizza. I don't say anything but sit down next to him, putting my arm around his shoulders and adjusting my position. We lie on the bed, hugging silently. I can't see his face, but his Adam's apple bobs up and down irregularly. He is crying. Your medicines make you lose the ability to have an erection. You told me that. You need to give up something to get something else. It is okay.
I caress his head and back. He breathes heavily for a moment and then calms down. He breathes into my partially exposed cleavage underneath my dress. "I want to give you pleasure." I feel joyful and aroused and accept his request. He moves so that his head rests on my midsection. I pull down my stockings and knickers. His hand trembles as he gently spreads my labia. I enjoy his resolute, slow and firm suckling so much that I soon let out a guttural groan as my muscles clench involuntarily around his fingers. He makes a muffled noise, a low sigh of pleasure. He is immensely aroused even though neither of us has touched his member at any point. Finally he wipes his mouth and comes back up to me. I breathe heavily into his neck as I compose myself. The thought of what constitutes sexual pleasure plays around in my head.
"I went to a sex party, it was awesome!" a man exclaims at a party. I smile to myself and regard him silently, knowingly. You might never know what real pleasure is. But I sincerely hope you do. The best pleasure is something you don't advertise. But you might want to write about it someday.
Vignettes, part 2.
I have been thinking of some of my adventures and defining moments. Faint echoes of an old longing. That is what they are now. I am free today. Free to remember with a heart at peace.
♤♤♤
Your nose against my nose. Fingers interlaced with fingers. You are reciting something you wrote to me earlier. I take your hand and position it on my breast. You gently cup it in your palm taking the erect nipple gently between your fingers and pinching from its root. "It feels like having a bird in my palm." I laugh. There certainly is a bird inside my chest fluttering its wings from excitement.
Mä oon maailmassa yksin ilman sua
Ja mun sydän menee kiinni ilman sua
Sä olet pehmee, sä olet niinkuin vettä virtaavaa
Sä teet muhun jäljen vaikka mun pinta onkin kovaa
We have managed to escape the guards and enter the still beach area. There's a full moon. My heart is bursting. Sand doesn't matter now. Soon we forget everything else. Your skin tastes like comfort and salt. Waves are crashing to the sand. I look at the stars as your lips caress my neck, my breasts, my inner thighs and vulva. Your dream has been to have me control you, sitting on your face and taking what's mine from you without holding back. I hear a muffled sound of pleasure from you as I take control. Feeling your hard cock behind me which will have to wait for its release. You see my row of teeth shining in the dark as I smile.
Onko olemassa rakkautta
onko olemassa kosketusta
joka kalliosta hioo pintaa
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
jonka alla sydän tuntee että
kiire sydämessä sulaa rintaan
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
♤♤♤
Forest and fields are running by. I'm listening to a song by Antti Ketonen, a talented Finnish artist. Olisitpa sylissäni. I wish you were in my embrace. I put my hand on your stomach as you're driving us home. From there I continue downwards. You sigh. I move my hand to the back of your neck. A small tease. I am tired. You soon notice me having fallen asleep in the passenger seat. An ultimate act of surrender and trust. I'm sure you enjoyed your ride, watching a sleeping woman at your mercy. You drive us home safely.
Valot syttyy ikkunoissa ilman sua
kuljen tietämättä minne ilman sua
Sä olet pehmee, sä olet niinkuin vettä virtaavaa
Sä näytät mulle helposti sen mikä on mulle omaa
♤♤♤
The sound of water running puts my mind at ease. I am at home with you. Home isn't a place. It's a person. You have prepared candles and some essential oils. This is a nice hotel room. We should do this more often. As I relax on the antique canopy bed you call out excitedly. "The water is ready." I rise and meet you in the bathroom. You have immersed yourself in the water with a blissful look on your face. A candle flickers on the shelf above the bath and the scent of ylang ylang floats in the misty air.
I remove my bathrobe and slowly descend into the tub. Our bodies fit perfectly. We are like twin sisters in the womb, legs and bodies wrapped around each other. You sigh. "Could you turn off the light please? It would make the atmosphere more cosy." I turn down the lighting and the room is filled with warm, humid darkness. I feel your body tightly wrapped against mine in the warm water. I close my eyes. Not a word escapes either of our lips as we enjoy the stillness and warmth of the tub. Like returning to the womb. I wish this peace would last forever.
Onko olemassa rakkautta
onko olemassa kosketusta
joka kalliosta hioo pintaa
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
jonka alla sydän tuntee että
kiire sydämessä sulaa rintaan
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
♤♤♤
Berlin's lights are beautiful by night. Visiting the Topography of Terrors and the museum of medical history have satisfied our morbid curiosities. I'm ready to withdraw for the evening. I allowed you to indulge in your habit of taking covert pictures of myself as I marveled over the antiquities. You especially like to watch me eat. I chuckle. Throwing myself into my meal with passion certainly translates to throwing myself into other things with passion as well. It's less than reckless abandon.
Your eyes gleam with contentedness as we walk through the empty city back to our residence. The cool night air carries a whiff of your scent with it. I take a handful of your hair into my fist as we close the door behind us, throwing ourselves on the bed. I guide your head onto my lap. You're strong, you could overpower me at any moment. But you won't. It's a surge of power, feeling a strong, big man like you settle down in my lap like a dog or a small child simply through loving touch. I caress your hair and face and you sigh with pleasure.
Sinä teet minut kauniiksi sinä teet
mulle oikeesti tiedät sen sinä teet
Sinä teet minut vahvaksi sinä teet
Teet mulle oikein sä teet mulle oikein
Sinä teet minut kauniiksi sinä teet
mulle oikeesti tiedät sen sinä teet
Sinä teet minut vahvaksi sinä teet
Teet mulle oikein sä teet mulle oikein
♤♤♤
I am alone in the dark room. You are far away, out of my reach for all eternity. What is there left for me to live for here? I am hovering somewhere just outside of my body. I see myself lying on the bed. A dark immovable mass. I have the needle in my hand. The beautiful steel is glistening under the glow of the streetlight outside my window. Is this what the little bird felt? I push the needle through the tip of my finger.
Onko olemassa rakkautta
onko olemassa kosketusta
joka kalliosta hioo pintaa
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
jonka alla sydän tuntee että
kiire sydämessä sulaa rintaan
♤♤♤
We recline together in the warm afterglow of the sauna. You turn off the lights. "Lie down." I oblige. You hover over me, sweat dripping from your hair onto my forehead. I struggle to breathe. The burning in my lungs combined with the gentle and cool flow of water is exhilarating. You let go and place yourself so that your stomach leans against my inner thighs. Your cock is resting on my stomach, hard and glistening. I feel close to you.
Soon the roles are reversed, a long kiss tells me everything. I get behind you, take a good hold of your hair roots and bend your neck backward. I cover your nose and mouth pouring water slowly onto your head. Your scalp smells like warm human. I push my nose into your hair. You lean in and hold on to me, and I am burning water.
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä
Onko olemassa palavaa vettä