Give It Up

Written by Orchid on August 20, 2013. Posted in Blog

The lonesome, hollow guitar riffs snake in and out of my eardrums.  I see nothing but a completely dark room illuminated by a single spotlight.  The brightness rests on two nude bodies.  Their gender is inconsequential.  All I see is their passion.  Glistening skin writhes, rises and falls in an undulating rhythm.  Tears roll down my flushed cheeks, but I am not sad.  I weep at the beauty of such a spectacle.  I am not the only person in the room in a literal sense but emotionally nobody else exists.  Even the hot breath of the stranger behind me goes unnoticed.

I see a head fall back as the sharp line of a jawbone becomes visible under the spotlight.  The jaw is agape, a silent cry of pleasure hangs in the air.  Obstinate nipples harden and reach for the sky.  My mouth waters.

Suddenly the mood snaps from intimate and private to desperate and indiscreet as the music lurches toward something more primal.  The writhing bodies become more aggressive, more furious.  For a moment I look away.  My heart aches for the tender moment that has passed like a whisper through the crowd and out the doors.  The rest of the audience has become noticeably excited but I can no longer stand the sight before my eyes.  I try to cover my angry eyes as I push past the onlookers and out into the unforgiving dampness of the night.

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Painted Lady. Brass Acrobat. Aerialist. Snake Charmer. Jill-Of-All-Trades. Nerdery Enthusiast. Show-off. Writer. Photographer. Doodler. Cheese, all the cheese.

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