I see you in the shadows, lurking behind the corners, slouching in the darkness, creeping along behind me, watching and waiting. Why, I do not know. But I feel your eyes searching my words, looking for something I do not understand. Who are you? Do you like what you read? If you read what I write, will you think less of me or more?
I'll call you my November. "Remember, remember the 5th of November." From "V for Vendetta," a movie that catches glimpses here and there of not conforming, not meeting expectations, of finding more than you bargained for and of being more than you could have imagined. The 5th of November.
I could be more than you bargained for. More than what you had hoped for. Or, I could be less. Less the woman of your imagination, more the woman you didn't know or understand.
Out of my head, out of my head, out of my head - will you just move yourself out of my head. I try so hard to move forward and just get you the hell out of my head, but at the most inopportune moments you are there and back in my head again. Fear grips my heart, barriers go up and feelings are numbed to deal with my inopportune moments. Then...
I wake up in the morning, warm from the heater at the foot of the bed. Trying hard not to open my eyes, to not feel the emptiness in the bed beside me. Pushing my hands down over my soft belly, pushing my black lace panties to the side and sliding my fingers slowly into the wetness of my soft, pink flesh. My imagination is all I have and today, it is all that you will have too.
Imagine the words, imagine the actions, imagine that you could reach out and touch me today, tomorrow and next week. Imagine hours of me on my knees in front of you, imagine you on yours in front of me. If I only had the opportunity I would enslave you, I would make you beg for me, I would use my body to tease you in ways imagination could not comprehend. You would worship me as the Goddess Isis was worshipped by the Egyptians and beyond, but like a paradox I would worship you too.