LOVE STUFF

posted : Jul 28, 2015

LUV STUFF . . . FIRST CAME THE DESIRE. Then came the longing. Then came the realization of the longing.

 Veena writes for Georgia Weekly Post:

 

VEENA tells Love Stuff @ Georgia Weekly Post

First came the desire. Then came the longing. Then came the realization of the longing. Then came the helplessness in the presence of the longing. 

Then came the obsession. 

The obsession. It came to me. More: it came inside me. it was around me constantly. Inside me. Around me. In my breath. In my nostrils. In my sight. I became my obsession. Living. Breathing. Sleeping. Dreaming. Waking. Every moment asleep or awake. I tried to lose it in others. Getting myself otherwise engaged, as you might say. It was futile. Every relationship was empty.

Unsatisfactory. Shallow. Devoid of meaning. My partners knew that some other person was in bed with me and them. 

I knew I was bitten. Helpless. Everywhere I was searching for him.  I could see nothing else. Everything else, work, friends, routine, daily details became distant. They were, as if, behind a curtain. At a distance. 

Everything then, became my search, my hunger.  I was like a thirsting bird, with its beak open, waiting for the rain drop, still, unmoving, frozen in time, with blood-shot eyes. 

It became the essence of exploration. Everything I searched and looked for was my obsession. I started calling it : The Experience. 

 It was a total immersion Expereince. I became the Bitten Cobra. 

 Finger - painting. 

The Canvas is not just a canvas. It is The Receiver. And A Giver. There is a dance. The Dance is with you, the One and with the Other.   It is a powerful, sensuous dance. It will respond to you, as you speak to it. 

It will receive the paint you place on it. And it will give back, what YOU, the Doer, will place on it, what YOU, the Taker, will take from it. 

The paint responds, with arching need.. Listening. Hearing. Feeling. Giving. 

You place your fingers deep within this paint in front of you. You begin to move your fingers, and watch as the paint follows your fingers, wrapped fully around you, responding to you. It is as if the paint is obeying your will. You carve the paint, molding it, pushing it here, pulling it there. Leading it to go where you want. All the while it follows you.

You are the master, you are the creator. And yet, it is the paint that prevails. The paint then leads. There begins the leading, not just the following. The canvas begins to take shape. You add more pigment, the paint is embracing you. The colors begin to change. Colors that you did not know existed.

  

You begin to see colors unfolding before your very eyes. There are new shades, new colors. The Beauty is unprecedented. You have seen much a Beauty, but never this Beauty. You are mesmerized. Enchanted. Like the Cobra mesmerized by the music from the snake charmer's flute. The cobra moves, from side to side, in a long sensuous graceful movement, aroused beyond its own control, unable to stop. One with the music. The snake charmer moves, leading it, side to side, backward, forward. Always leading, aware, knowing, the snake charmer leads. The Cobra has surrendered, mesmerized.

And then, almost imperceptibly, the snake charmer is following the Cobra's lead. The Cobra is leading. Blinded, the snake charmer moves, captured by his own music.

The music, now, is the one is control. Ah, sweet enslavement.

I realize the music, like Beauty, is always the one in control . 

The Music, the dance has brought me to this level.  I am transported. What follows is secondary. 

This he whispered to me in the middle of everything. At different times. Sometimes at a cocktail party. Sometimes on the phone. Sometimes in a grocery store. Sometimes looking at me accross the room and mounting the words, speaking with his eyes. Once in a parking lot. 

But it was all one. It is as if he said them all together. At one time.  For Time is not linear. You remember the important things in one memory. 

He spoke, perhaps in whispers. But loud and clear. To fill the room. 

" You belong to me as the Tiger belongs to the Jungle. The Leopard in the trees. The Lion on the plains. " 

" I am none of them. I am not like any man you have ever known. " 

  

" You are my lady. My words strike right to your thighs." 

" I can, and will make you always feel like the woman you were born to be.  To feel the love of a man who knows how to please and make a woman feel the way she should in every pore of her being." 

" Imagine how fantastic it would be in this life. How much I would make your body respond to everything I do. " 

I know, I said to him softly.  I can feel it. 

 

 

 

 

luv.stuff@georgiaweeklypost.com 

 

 

 

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