The sands shift creating castles where there were none, holes where there were mountains, and my vision is blurred. I woke from death and Eros was holding me, cradling my head, pouring water onto my lips. His arrows remained sheathed on his back. Barely conscious, I wondered at that moment if they were heavy; if the golden arrows he carried were his burden and not his bliss.
I looked up and he smiled down, stood and helped me to my feet. With quiet surrender and a sad smile he handed me my gourd, fresh with water, turned and walked away.
The desert is endless, cold at night and scorching in the day, it is death for many and life for few. I’m not certain if I’m dead or alive, all I know is that I’m here, existing. The stars are innumerable, countless mysteries I’ll never know, but they watch me as I watch them; they’re trusting company for me. The cavern is warm, bright with a small fire. Captured by the flame, painful memories surface. First about Eros, then about you, both connected in an ugly way to me.
A year and a half into my union with Eros, I found a large file, varied, bold and blatant, of harlots, mostly unattractive, performing lewdness for show. I was devastated. Eros would not approach me for physical intimacy or attention, yet he willingly shared his time and energy with these fantasy women – instead of the reality that is me. Am I so ugly, unlovable, so un-fuckable, invisible, that he could not want me…I had for years been fighting to feel his love. Finding this file confirmed my own dark fears about myself.
Eros panicked. My soul was wounded. First he denied it, then he admitted it, then he apologised for it. Tears streamed down my face, I felt like a child, vulnerable, helpless and in desperate need of comfort. My cheeks stung as I spoke, ‘The file doesn’t bother me, what bothers me is that you didn’t share it with me.’ Here I was, in utter hurt declaring my need to be a part of his sexual world, whatever it was, willing to stay open - when the greatest pain was yet to follow…‘I’m deleting all the files, all of them.’ He said firmly. ‘No, I don’t want you to do that. I want you to share that part of yourself with me.’ I was clear. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m deleting them.’ That was it. Deleting those files meant I’d never again have reason to ask allowance into his sexual world - his private heart and nature. I had asked and the answer was no.
My stomach is a hollow pit. It aches at the disfigurement of a similar situation that followed three years later…earlier this year. I take a sip from my gourd, the water is warm. In hypnotic reverie, I’ve now leaned in, much too close to the fire; I’m going to get burned. The fire takes me again and my mind drifts to you, my Queen, your face…
When I harmed you unintentionally
You denied vehemently
Knowledge
I was confused
Why
Why would you ever deny
Your truth
Hidden as it was
I didn’t mean to penetrate
Rape
Or forcefully pierce
Your sacred heart
Or any part
You aren’t willing to give
I wanted to share
My nature too
With you
Your actions said
No
Go
The two incidents play hide and seek within me. They disappear and resurface in turn, scatter throughout my body; I long to dispel them.
I feel broken.
Undernourished by love, why should I trust? I'm tired. My heart struggles to remain open in the face of closure.
I don’t know if I have the strength to die in love again, or the strength to hope for a relationship with you. I’ve fought hard against the likelihood of a dark truth building in my head; that you don’t feel the same for me as I do for you. That I should leave you be.
I fall through the fire
Dizzy
Exhausted, I cry
I shut my eyes
Let oblivion
Burn me
I feel the heat
And as it takes me
All I see is you
I remain,
Lesley
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