There’s a mark on my neck, a love bite.
Here I sit, fresh-plucked and well-groomed: my lipstick fresh and mascara done. I wonder who I am.
Everyone wants to be beautiful. She grabbed my hair, yanked and bit on my neck twice.
I call it the position of lovers, no.73.
The man and woman reside near each other. The woman grabs the man’s hair closest to the scalp (this position works best with men with long hair), pulls the man’s head back exposing the neck and then places her mouth on his neck. Gentle kisses are the position of lovers, no. 57, but this is no. 73, so the woman bites down with her teeth.
Done properly, the man will feel the energies from the lower chakras rise up as she drinks them in through her mouth.
This is the position of lovers, no.73.
She approached me earlier as she always had: “You look hot…”
In that shirt, with your hair down, in those pants, dancing, etc.
But I do not feel hot. And I do not wonder why she does not pursue me further, but I wonder why she does not.
Everyone wants to feel beautiful. I’ve had the luxury of being beautiful for my fellow beings, but late at night, fresh-plucked and well-groomed, I worry I am not beautiful for everyone.
So, following, the bite of the mark on my neck just fading, I enter the position of lovers, no.84.
The man, slightly wanting, calls the woman late at night. Inebriation is irrelevant, for is not love the greatest of drunks? No matter how low?
The woman answers, and then answers the door. The man, much later kneels behind the sleeping woman and places his lips three times, once nearest the lips — but not touching them — once against the cheek, and against the temple, before leaving the bed to write, or question himself.
This is the position of lovers, no.84.
The greatest agony of love is our fear it does not exist.