Mistress Secrets 


The mistress holds many secrets, 

not just the corporeal of clandestine sex.

She collects clues in nature’s trails 

in bleedings 

slathered like massaged love potion of entrusted lives. 

And trust there is–not to tell

while the other reveals: 

all sorrows and aches, disappointments and joys, dark desires and flighty fantasies. 

She swallows words with their heartbeats inside her body 

and emanates fumes of lust as interpretative salve. 

She is whore-preistess.

A mistress locks like a safe. 

Her world shutters in space 

like the smoke-stale, nylon-curtained windows of a cheap motel screening daylight. 

Her misty spell casts doubt and fear, longing and dread. 

Will she tell? 

She is harpy-savior.

She can tell–

how hungry he is for affection, how desperate she is for care. 

She recognizes the drift in the gaze that lids evanesce in the throes, 

orbs inward facing a racing heart of agonizing desire, painful pleasure’s release. 

She is spell-casting springtime.

She knows the cards that contain the house, 

which ones can be plucked without disturbing the structure, 

without crashing down the careful construction. 

Sentinel at gargoyled castle keeps, 

she is creator-dragon.

The vault she is has no combination. 

Her honesty and trustworthiness stare ironically into the abyss 

of human heart relation–re-kindling the rhythms of lie and sleep, 

walking and waking, 

truth and destined failure to hold neither an eternity nor a lifetime. 

She is prayer.

“I Love My Husband But Here’s Why I Want to Cheat” – Huffington Post

While this article has an intriguing title that is actually somewhat misleading (she devotes little if any time to the reasons for her wanting to cheat), it is, nevertheless, confirmation to me that being the object of desire is powerful, compelling and irresistible–in the gaze. She rounds out the article to craft the main idea as an honesty is the best policy moral of the story, but the writer appears to be trying to convince herself more than her audience that honesty will save the day–and her marriage–in the end. She devotes exactly one or two sentences at most to that notion, but the majority of the 35 micro paragraphs are relished details of the one who made her feel desired.
And why repeat so many times how she was not attracted to this man who she risked her marriage for just to see in the park or coming out of his place? The thrill she squeezed from this clandestine relationship was first, that it was clandestine, and second, that it was about wanting to be wanted. She said as much. The draw of those two potent potions is why the writer wants to cheat on her “soul mate.”

Read for yourself here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elloa-atkinson/i-love-my-husband-but-heres-why-i-want-to-cheat_b_5909882.html?utm_hp_ref=tw