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Najakcharmer -> RE: Love (4/30/2006 1:14:28 PM)
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Sonnet for Slave
Held fast by steel, you know the soft caress
This paradox transcendent and rare
The hand that closes fiercely in your hair
Claiming past consent with strange and savage tenderness
Painting passion crimson on your breast
Yet says your name as softly as a prayer.
I mark your willing flesh to write the things I should not dare
And hope you hear what I shall there confess
In the leather's kiss, for how can I say
"I love you" any other way?
- Naja
Love to me is the awesome committment of total physical trust, the gifts of body and soul given and recieved, desire fierce enough to leave its mark on willing flesh. Romance is the security of real bondage, knowing that you are valued enough to be literally held, and you value your partner enough to restrain him.
The gift of dominance is as bright and beautiful as the gift of submission, and as awesome in its scope. To take the responsibility, the burdens of another's life, completely into your hands for a moment so that they can rest - this is true love, to me.
To submit one's self utterly into those hands, trusting, is a gift whose worth cannot be measured in this world, and nothing material could ever hope to match it. Those things are in me to the core, and they will be with me forever.
Yet I have had partners who did not feel or believe those things, and the result is hurt that runs deep. Intellectually, one can understand that some people are simply different in their languages of love. Emotionally, you feel abandoned, and lost, and very much alone. The blow to your self esteem can be a heavy one - what is wrong with you that your lover does not want you this way, does not trust you enough to give you the gift of himself?
The answer is nothing, but you cannot believe. And the hurt goes on, as long as you remain in the relationship. Until finally, you find a partner whose language of love is the same as yours. Then the words have real and deep meaning, and then at last you can believe.
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