Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Undone, revised

I just wanted to add some things in to make it complete. I didn't want to simply edit the post I'd put up, cos' then nobody would bother to notice. A metaphor just came to mind: an artist adding the last few brushstrokes to a dearly personal and treasured piece of work.

When I think about being undone, I imagine the quiet falling away of silk that covers something secret. Whether it is treasure or not depends on who lays eyes on it. The knot that held the silk together being undone as if by an invisible hand. So fluid that it's almost as if nothing had moved in that single breathless moment, quieter than a whisper.

The silk is my skin and my true essence is what's covered by it.

I feel like this in front of God a lot of times. Undone. Because He sees through everything, my facades, my masks, my facepaint. Even in the darkest of night, He sees me and through me as if by daylight. I'm naked, in all senses of the word, before His piercing eyes.

In another way, it also brings to mind something more earthly and earthy; the undoing of buttons, zips, etc. You know the rest. But I don't mean this in a purely physical way either. I think when love is made there is an exchange taking place that can't be seen by human eyes. I can't express it adequately except to say; there are only two people I want to be undone by in this lifetime - God, and my husband.

That is why I find porn so disgusting and a waste of time. I also find it devoid of passion, despite all physical evidence to the contrary. What is physical union when it serves only to satisfy base desires? It's lifeless, and passion is vibrant and full of life. I don't have the 'gift' of men to put sex in a separate box from emotions. They're all entwined together in my mind, like the bedsheets and limbs of lovers.


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