Ice and Fire
Sometimes I turn away from my sexuality.
Being told that I've overwhelmed them can make me step back, scared of myself.
I get worried that all I am is a walking hormone.
Then have a friend call me by that same phrase (even with a joking laugh) just helps to reinforce the fear.
Sex is good. I know that.
Sex is healthy. I know that as well.
But too much of a good thing can be bad, so I get worried that this fever and want in my blood is too much.
And I lock up.
I cool my heated blood out of sheer reaction and end up encased by ice.
I get to the point where things that I know feel good have no effect whatsoever.
Thank the gods for other friends and lovers.
Gently kissing away the fears, challenging it.
Challenging me and asking what I want.
"Make me burn and melt the ice away."
And now I'm standing in a puddle, metaphorically, shaking off the last of the chill.
4 comments:
Nice metaphor! You often write with a poetic quality that I enjoy very much …
And by the way, I am still waiting for the next part of the story about the hunt! :)
I feel like that sometimes. Make that rarely. The fire burns bright here just about all the time . . .
M- Thank you. It's proving... reluctant to write.
Cherrie- it's every so often that this gets triggered.
I like that post.
You know the Robert Frost poem, don't you?
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