Riding Off the Beaten Path

My bike’s tires are a lot like me. Cautious and a bit clingy but reliable. They grip the road snugly, though they make it difficult to keep up with Skyspook on our rides, slowing me down. His tires are larger, smoother, thinner, flick over the road with ease. He’s had 3 flats but knows how to fix them and has done so each time,  » Read more

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kinky life

This was actually an entry from a private journal I posted October 16, 2011, so Skyspook and I were newer to doing dungeon scenes and pain work together, but it really spells out some of my inner turmoil and the process I was going through at that time. I found it interesting in hindsight, so I thought it’d be nice to repost it:

kinky life

Posted [protected post]on 2011.10.16 at 11:25  » Read more

The energy at the dungeon was in rare form last night –

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mono guilt

I find myself vacillating between which will kill my relationship with Skyspook faster, which is the bigger risk: Staying monogamous with him, limiting his options, potentially choking that new fresh spark out of us once and for all with a lack of sexual variety and/or a feeling that I’m trying to control him or own his sexuality –  » Read more

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On Obscurantism

I was cruising through some old chat logs for a romantic trip down memory lane and came across myself explaining to Skyspook about my personal views on language:


Conversation with skyspook at 5/11/2011 on irc:

(2:50:32 PM) page: I wanted to say it without saying it
(2:50:44 PM) page: that’s how poetry is,  » Read more

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That Voodoo That We Do So Well

I had a professor back in the day who used to say, “The poetry isn’t in the words. It’s everything in between the words.” And I believe poetry is what happens inside the reader as a result of the piece.

Poetry is the finesse, the connotations we derive, the emotional and intellectual resonance that results from the words that are read or spoken.  » Read more

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We were met at the entrance of the Dom Pamporium by our hostess.

She asked another Dom and Skyspook if they were there to be pampered. Both responded in the affirmative.

“And you?” she asked me.

“I’m here to learn.” I told her.

“Of course,” she nodded graciously.  » Read more

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Charmed Life

These are a few of the poems I wrote about adjusting to moving out here. I think they’re pretty self-explanatory:


Little neighbor girl as I take
out the recycling:  “Hello.
I like your high heels.”

All of seven, she darts away,
but I stay, frozen at the curb.  » Read more

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