Love and Lust and More…

“Love gives you something extra… It makes you limitless…” ~ Adam Scythe

 

I need no one (other than me)
to love me, to want me,
to make me feel
desired, but…
that look, that wild look
in your eyes, that deep dance
between love and lust and more…
oh Love! that wanting look is need
I never knew I could relish in
needing from anyone… but me.

 

the wee notes…
– the other day, my Piano Man and I were in bed. I was being my healthily naughty sexual self, when he smiled one of those smiles that makes human beings hold their breath until undies begin to drop and… well, you know the smiles I mean. Anyway, he smiled at me, and said, “You are an incredible woman. This hasn’t changed you at all.” One of his hands was on my mastectomy scar when he said that. I doubt I’ll ever be able to explain exactly what those words, that smile, that touch… did to me, what that moment meant to me. So, I chose to poetize it instead… hoping your own heart (and lungs?) can feel some of it. Oh, and… um… the fact that my Piano Man and I broke the bed shortly after that is totally unrelated. Really! Stop laughing! All right, you don’t have to stop, I start roaring every time I think about it. Bwahahaha!

– Linked to Poets United.

 

Vortex of Passion, by Leonid Afremov

Obsessive-Compulsive Behavior (camouflaged as discipline) Can Be a Superpower

I am doing fantastically well.

I started with that statement because more than a handful of you has messaged me to let me know you are concerned about my virtual-MIA-ness. Thank you for that, it means a lot to me. My incision is healing beautifully… I’m regaining mobility a lot faster than expected… And although we aren’t yet sure what will happen next (the pathology isn’t back), I feel quite ready (even eager) for what’s to come.

I spend most of my day reading about chemo, radiation, hormones, supplemental therapies, nutrition, exercise… and anything I can think of that might ready me for the conversations I will have with the breast and radiation oncologists once the lab results are back. Writing, researching, exercising several times a day, sleeping for healing, groping my Piano Man for healing, 😀 and spending a ridiculous amount of time staring at my new sexy in the mirror takes a lot of my day and night.

So, please don’t worry, my Wicked Luvs. I am not in pain (or in any more pain than I have been in the last decade. Just busy, busy, busy… and sort of obsessed (in the best of ways) with the new bits of me. Some might find this attitude unhealthy, feel that I’m allowing myself to be consumed by the effects of the disease. But… in my case, at least, they would be wrong. When it comes to new trials, I’m disciplined to the point of obsession—I use all the energy and time I can afford in eliminating the immediate threat, analyzing anything I’ve gained (or lost) in the battle… then I play (blog, Instagram, Facebook) and move on to the next fight.

That is how I work. I assess the enemy, acknowledge (and delight in) my assets, then I sink my teeth into anything fighting against me… until one of us cries for mercy, runs, or agrees to go into a long, long, long… period of remission.

I suspect my blogging will become more predictable in a week or three. Until then, remember: I’m not suffering at the bottom of some dark lagoon. Nope. I’m exploring the lagoon’s revealing darkness… while wondering how much yummier the cool water will feel on my skin… after chemo takes all my hair… and my boob and I get to swim naked and grinning (and roaring battle-cry-bubbles) like the fluidly-sexy-beast I know myself to be.

 

P.S. I will lurk around your cyber-homes (and reply to your words here, Instagram, Facebook…) sometime tonight. Be good. Be wicked. Be wicked good, my Luvs.