seriously.
very sensual, strangely lit, movie type dreams.
it's the strangest thing.
i was told some time ago that it was probably some manifestation of a need for sisterhood, a consequence of not having many female friends.
i've never been romantically interested in women, and i'm not now. so enjoying these dreams is something of a paradox.
her appearances are variations on several themes: she's always a cross between an african queen and a black power logo from 1960something. tall, dark, afro-ed, and sweet. she smiles at me a lot. our contact feels more like a journey than anything sexual.
i don't feel her kisses so much as i experience them. i don't touch her so much as i run my hands through a river.
i don't get it.
i suppose i don't have to.
maybe it's just me falling in love with myself.
2 comments:
"i don't feel her kisses so much as i experience them. i don't touch her so much as i run my hands through a river.
i don't get it.
i suppose i don't have to.
maybe it's just me falling in love with myself."
perhaps, this is it... and this, in my opinion is good. falling in love with oneself is truly the best.
coming to accept myself has been a bit of a struggle. i'm getting there, though...although i'm about to write about some of the setbacks. lol.
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