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Red
All my life my favorite color was red! Perhaps that was a sign. Funny thing is, back in the day, girls were supposed to like pink and pastel colors and red was for whores. It wasn’t a power color back then. I don’t even remember when it changed or when I noticed it changed, but I always loved the color. I started wearing red when I was pregnant with my daughter. I hated all the maternity clothes. The word Baby with an arrow pointing to my stomach was not cute to me. So I bought larger clothes and started adding red scarves and such. Embracing the “red” in my life…
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The Power of the Touch of His Hand
The power of him is transferred through me… Driving in the car, both of our arms on the middle console sometimes he will he reach for my hand. When he does the power of him is transferred through me with tingles on all of my nerve endings. He says nothing when he makes this gesture, it is as if it is part of the ritual of riding in the car together, like fastening a seat belt or plugging his phone into the charger. I feel the heat of his skin and I am instantly aware of every part myself inside and outside of my body. His fingers entwined in mine. Sometimes…
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Fear is not an Option
Fear Fear is not an option Everything is just fine, she smiles. At work, she maintains her professional status, arriving on time, and making every meeting and deadline. At home, she cooks and cleans and takes care of her family. She smiles and chats with the neighbors. She pays her bills when she can, she works extra if she has to do so. At night, in the morning, all day long she fears they will see who she really is. Everything is not ok. She cries At work, she screams inside because she isn’t sure she is good enough for what she does. At home, she wants to climb in bed…
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Choice
I wasn’t given a choice once I gave my consent. Told to lay on the bed. Hang my arms off the side. Spread my legs just a little. Wait. There is a warm breeze that travels over my body. His breath? My skin comes alive with his closeness. I wait. Was that a noise? Did he move? I am not sure. Quieting my mind so that I can hear him. I wait. My hair moves. Did he touch my hair? I shudder and wait. I feel the heat from his body warming my skin without touch. He is close, just wait. Please touch me, I scream to myself. The desire rises…