Friday, February 5, 2010
Beneath the snow
The world outside my window is disappearing. Hour by hour, shapes and sounds are becoming muted, melting under the crystalline blanket of tiny, six-pointed stars that obscures everything we thought was real.
Inside, my secret life persists.
Inside my house.
Inside my brain.
Inside my heart and my cunt and my submissive soul.
I am feeling an odd safety in my weather-imposed isolation. It feels like the safety the sadist inspires in me. A protection against everything except what is important. All that remains is what is real - what is real to me - what is real to us - while everything becomes muted. Becomes non-existent.
There was just some sort of explosion a block or two away. The lights have been blinking. Perhaps a transformer blew. Here, we still have power. Just in case, there are now tea lights dancing in my bedroom window.
Whatever happens, the cats will keep my body warm tonight.
Whatever happens, my Master will keep my heart warm tonight.
Whatever happens, the flames will keep on burning.