Monday, February 19, 2007


Oh it was a strange night at the bars, back in the day, oh that dress, how could a pile of cloth create such an experience?

It was sleeveless, black lace over flesh-colored silk, low cut in front and back, they dared me to wear it, and I remember the feeling when I looked at myself in the mirror, it was skin tight and it looked like I was naked underneath the delicate pattern of lace, uplifted breasts so white and exposed against the black decolletage, oh mama! Made up like crazed harlot, a fringe of false eyelashes, ruby red lips, butterfly blue and green eyeshadow, rosy rouge, stiletto heels with black silk stockings, sparkling rhinestone necklace and earrings, elbow length black gloves, and we all gaily stuffed ourselves in a yellow cab, off to the midwest waterfront dive bar.

I walked in the joint and it was immediate, the hungry attention, everyone there eating me up with their eyes, I felt a jolt of power that was not particularly pleasant, didn't know what to do with it, yet it made me even more present to the room, and I felt the growing crowd circling me, watching me, lusting for me, to touch me, maybe even tear me apart in curiosity and desire.

And the energy kept feeding upon itself, their attention, my alarm, looping back and forth, I didn't have to say a word or do a thing, it was better not to say anything, do anything, just be the floating sex goddess, walking by, even my friends who knew me well were captured by this energy, not of my own making alone, no it was created by the whole group, it was intoxicating and disturbing and it was only afterwards I thought about it, thought, oh that's how they felt, those movie queens, sex symbols, they must have felt this way at first and then gotten used to the power, learned how to wield it, perhaps made Marilyn Monroe mistakes and were burned and destroyed by it, ah, what a feeling.


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