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MsTempestRaven -> The Colour of Completeness (8/9/2005 9:49:46 PM)
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What curiosity has lit within this bare torch! Those images of dark dungeons, leather and latex and chain, the painted corsets and boots of commanding women, the deep voices of men in hoods and capes; the smell of pain and the muffled cries inside cages deep from the mouth of Hell. What perverse and damp stonewall have I descended upon? And yet, an executioner was not there at the entrance to this gate. I stood there, balancing between these two worlds. And there in that moment, a moment that glanced back to my hidden years, was the image of a woman kneeling. Each step was weighted with the breath of hesitation as I approached, noticed the whitewashed walls and felt the floor beneath my feet like the taste of icedtea on a summer afternoon, sweet and cool and smooth. I watched this woman kneel, her body like formed silk, positioned and poised with an aura surrounding her of blue, backlit by the moon. She turned her head looking up at me. My breath sharp in a shudder as this woman gazed at me. I knew her eyes, her smile. I had seen this woman before, from the corner of my eye in shadowed light. My hidden years had known her. And slow, like the stretch of dawn, as the damp walls and the cries of agony from dark caverns came no more, faded into the bright walls of understanding, this bare torch saw the fire. Then, as I felt the warm flickering tongues licking my wounds of denial like the kiss of home, I knelt beside this woman who had waited for me, who was me, and felt the colour of completeness.
[image]local://upfiles/130798/BC50C7840C4347CF936AF6166F29065E.jpg[/image]
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