love, sex, sex work

Dear heart,

I will speak directly to you today, to your valves and ventricles, to your canted chambers and controlled floods, to the infusions of charge and spark that animate your determined pursuit of nurturance. Thank you for how you’ve carried me, and how you’ve enabled me to carry you. You have guided me through immense uncertainties. I do not know how you have not seized or ruptured; I cannot fathom how you hold so much. I bow to your strength and relentlessness; I bow to the wisdom and language of your pulse. Thank you so much.

Such nightmares, this morning. Your hurt in me, I can barely breathe through you; I can barely keep up. You ache; I ache; we ache. It is profoundly uncomfortable to sit still with you, to sit still, to breathe stillness in.

The stories of my life and of my nightmares are telling me today that you are worthless, a wounded bruise of meat available for quick and cheap consumption. You feel the threat of those stories; you are pumping overtime to bail the sinking vessel. I will not let us sink beneath the surface of those family fables. Let us imagine unforeseen lightness and float through this. Let us remember that today, there is no need to fight or flail. Rest.

Rest. No harm is being brought to you, no capacity taken. Today I vow that I will honor rather than harm you. These things did happen, but they did not happen today. Rest.

Dear cunt,

We will be years or lifetimes in healing towards each other; I will stay that course. I heard your nightmares this morning. I heard your nightmares and your mother’s voice. I heard your fears of use, discard, and shame. I heard your mother’s voice.

I will be honest. I don’t know what to say to you. I wish that I could scoop you up and hold you, to carry you in my hoodie to rest from the pull of want and gravity. You do not have to open and accept the imposition of unwanted contact so that I may eat or have shelter today. You do not have to tear and bleed and ache today, as you contort and stretch to hold bitter and unwanted mass for the safety of faked desire over forcible rape. There is no hustle for survival today.

It is safe to feel and open, to hold and squeeze. It is safe to accept and slick. It is safe to want.

It is safe to want nothing, to close, to merely be, a tight and self-contained bud, untouched.

I will breathe us through the fear of shame and the fear of force. Today we are safe. We are not usable, disposable. We are not triangulated and forced to be pretty, tight, and available for survival. We have power, electricity, worth. I will hold and carry you. I will guard and keep you. I will honor you. I will not blame, cut, “deodorize”, or revile you for the actions of others. You did not invite force. True force is not invited. We survived force and unwanted utilization. Today we are safe and off the clock, off the hook. I heard your nightmare and your mother’s voice, and they are over now. We are moving through layers of healing. Rest. Rest. Love can be safe.

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