Lilac Wine :: a warzone towards haiku

February 12, 2011

Coiled rope

Filed under: Text — Tags: , — Lilac @ 11:25 am

The most respectful way to tie up one’s dominant seems to be as Death, the best of tops; so I rent black feathered wings. Wings and boots and black, with my man in a smart grey suit. Aesthetic perfection.

I practice every day for a week. Tuesday, I fail to hoist my dead-man off the carpet and am dejected. I consider giving up, but Rain has given me a chance and I’d like to make the most of it. My brother says, How you do is up to you.

Friday evening I rig in blue lights and everything but the suspension goes away. Whether it’s absorption or the consequence of an uninteresting performance, I hear nothing from the spectators. It’s disappointing, though later compliments hearten me. My brother says, This is the first time I’ve felt like flying in suspension… and in pictures, the look on his face is blissful.

This rope tells a story of flight, by twists and knots, to a beautiful man’s body on stage. It is first satisfaction of a dream: to give others what I love.

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