Of the room and walls that hold you -
Like a gown, sinched on one side in bold lacework, red silk draping down. A precise gesture to hold the body - to hold the curiousity of other eyes -
Of waiting for a reply on a long phone call. A dear one’s silence far away. Untouchable -
[When I was a child my mother was one of those parents who attached to me a literal cord she could hold as we walked around.] A massive heartstring given clear metaphor, real beyond whim or word -
Tension in the mind does not easily escape time -
Erotic questions; like being the one who is seen as different in a room of people who are all the same -
The intensity of walking into and out of places that are “yours” and “not yours.” Am I welcome? whispering the hair on your arm, raised eyebrows at your entrance -
That is my tension.
How might yours feel different?