day 7: on being a reader

day 7

so i have a friend/reader who grew up with me, reading with me our star wars and terry brooks. as we aged up we talked about how an ideal read is one that we can jerk off to. and i aspire to provide d with work that one day maybe puts d’s sex over the edge. the ideal read, even if like, it’s not sexual or erotic in any sense, so good i’m touching touching touching not even noticing my hand is moving and then, oh, i have to put the read down, arch up over. maybe i pick up the book or maybe i go to bed.

now today reading a book i’m reading* i took the vibrator on my clit’s head and went sloooow reading until i couldn’t bear it and then went slooow reading again until i really couldn’t bear it and let the book fall aside, let my fingers in just a little bit. just a little bit. and rolled the vibe from side to side. i thought of my sweetie and our sex and then about me and my sex. and i felt the tightening of me. eroticizing me. the orgasm was an mmmmmm and then the hearing in my ears fell a little fuzzy as it some times does. i feel great. good. well. happy. glad pleased to be showing up for myself in this way. glad to be hearing my body when she says what she craves in sex and bringing that, arriving for me. 

*ellis avery’s the last nude. which is about sex. another part of the day the day before, i found myself humming the hot air balloon scene music from before night falls the movie, realized i needed support from my Reinaldo, my main man (brautigan is my other main man. or, buddy glass is my other other main man. anyway) -- and that singing from the well wasn’t gonna cut it. i want to write a love poem to the library. to the characters who live inside half a yellow sun to reinaldo’s face on his cover. to the fact that i’m learning (thanks to like a one line about jack spicer -- anti-Semite, too bad ): -- about hanging out with brautigan. oh!), i’m learning books came up out of people, books have authors. authors are writers. i am a writer. i am a.... i slipped into flow with Ray, sat on the front stoop in the sun listening to him, obedient. wanting to put my face at his feet, rest my cheek on his toes.

maybe what i’m getting at now below the * is that through this masturbation practice i’m dragging my goddamn insides out. my fantasy come up and out. my internal out. the bridge between. the bridge between. the bridge between.