Rapture and torture.
May 7, 2011 § Leave a comment
It is true, truth like the greening of the land. I am in love with Penny. I yearn for her in the pit of my stomach, I sigh, weep, bite my fingers. I hover like a bug about her in the kitchen, inane jokes flying from my lips. At night, I bury my face in my hands, it is impossible. She has kissed me, but so drunkenly, I do not believe this is what she feels for me in her heart. Ah, Love! What wonderful torture, like being beaten, whipped by an imperial beauty, like poor Severin in Venus in Furs.
I feel I am being taught to submit to the female, to kneel before her, her wishes upon my head like a garland of roses, thorns pricking my skin. The unattainable is the thing all humans most desire, like the apple of knowledge, the flesh of the wise salmon. Like lightning she has struck my heart all the more because she is forbidden to me, chaste and dressed in white. I must think of her skin as cold china, unresponsive, not thrumming with warmth or need to be touched. Like a nymph of the wood, glimpsed through green leaves, she must remain elusive, half mythical.