Sexual Healing

January 17, 2016

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I should be doing laundry, for this is my natural state of being, always in some perpetual climb up Laundry Mountain. Yet here I sit. Typing away. He asked me to, almost demanded it, as far as anyone commands me to do anything. I’ll abide. He’s right. Laundry can wait.

I hit a wall this week. Ended up in a weakened state and the words wouldn’t come.

“My Lady write something or finish writing something tomorrow!! … I didn’t like hearing that you hadn’t been able to write for days…You need to write, I need you to write.”

I need you to write he said. Reeling, smiling, smirking.

He said ‘finish something’. So here this is. Been on my mind for a while, hiding, coming out at opportune moments.

I sabotage myself sometimes. I hide my own writing from myself. I have stacks of coffee stained scraps of paper everywhere. Keep telling myself I will organize it when I have a day off. I never have a day off. Last time I managed to do anything with them I had pneumonia, dear lord please let that not happen again. Even on my laptop, I give things obscure names instead of dates or explaining content in ‘my documents’. I lost this one, and now it is found.

I am full of idiosyncrasies like these. Right now I am listening to the same song on repeat. This happens, I get an earworm and refuse to kill it. Feeding and refreshing it instead.

There is method to my madness. If I am to dance to it on stage I need to memorize every subtle nuance and match my body’s undulations to it.

As far as the treasure map to my words, I find them when it’s time and not one minute sooner.

I got given another name… Rogue. From X-men

I think that is astute.

He says I absorb everything from everyone, because I do.

I need someone like him. Adamantium.

Someone that calls me down for dinner and knows my silence means I want to but I cannot right now.

Someone who sees me holding the fork halfway to my mouth and waits to catch it, knowing it will fall and I have to run to quill and parchment. My truest loves.

Someone that knows it’s bred in my bone to save the world and I cannot stop without losing limbs and the thing that keeps me upright and strong.

He wants me upright and strong, he wants me crumpled on the floor and weak. He just wants me.

One look from him, one word and I am naked.

There is no hiding here, no modesty. Just my soul laid bare.

He asked me not to describe him, but I am nothing if not defiant.
He is the home I get to come to after years of wandering, healing others, cleaning up god’s mess.
He is sanctuary and sustenance. Someone who knows I have to eat, and sometimes I have to feed.
He is really good food (and I am full).*

Succubae and her Incubi.

If you adhere to the Christian description we be evil things. Mind you, Christians got sex all wrong, it isn’t a sin it’s power. Considering what Christianty is… of course they want to control it. Heaven forbid we be happy and strong.
Marvin Gaye got it right, ‘when I get that feeling, I need sexual healing’.
History called us monsters, soul suckers, leeches. Parasites do exist in all forms, human and nonhuman. I have met men and women who feed off people without giving a drop back. Fuck, I dated many. Not anymore.
I’m the kind of creature who fucks to heal herself and others. He is like me, but the man version. As much as anyone can be at least. Whole lotta half breeds and interesting hybrids of fae folk running around. I have embraced my strange, my gifts, my talents and have found more and more people like me. I wandered alone for a long time.

I still get a little shy exposing my weird. But I had to know so I asked him a few awkward questions. My gut was right, we both use sex as food and an energy exchange. We can intuitively feel different frequencies from partners. Once I realized this everything changed. I stopped giving my body and my energy to incompatible ones.

I now know what it is like to be known, exactly as I am and adored for it. Not just known, but learned and studied and given space and light to grow.

I won’t settle for less because I made peace with alone. The gratification of free will and that soul satisfying ‘just is’ feeling. Sated.

I saw him coming. He said he felt the same. He looked at me and knew me. He has been my kind for many lifetimes.

My logic is mutable, and as such is still sometimes fixed. “How can this be” she whispered. I get everything I ever wanted, and I am starting to dream bigger than before.

Still don’t get to stay but I get respite, rest. A touchstone and maybe a chance to organize all the scraps of my own life.

I went through a lot before I realized what I am.

Now is blessed, the rest remembered.


(*Ani Difranco)








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