The Secret Room

The Secret Room: Part I

Dear husband, spouse
(I do not use My or Your
because there is no possession
stated or implied) What for?

two equal parts of one equation
X and Y
U and I
(too often known as ex and why)
and we were wed as one
and on that day
the WE was Done!

I became Your Tax Deduction
a dependent on your own return
nothing mattered that I earn
the me became your HON
like Honey, I'm home, too bad,
I'm late, dear, Gotta run!
leaving me alone and sad
to fuck myself as oft you said
when you found reason to be mad.
I did not give it that much thought
or not as much as I had ought.
Now, dear love, my loving groom,
I have more needs: the secret room.


The Secret Room: Part II

Oh, Husband, dear --
(I still cannot, will not,
call you mine
because I've got
my own identity '--
nor shall you stake your claim
on me -- I have my name
my own equality.)

Have you forgot your sacred vow
to love (alas, too far abstract a term)
beyond the sex you often crave;
to honor (not just leave your sperm)
with respect,
a way one should behave,
and cherish someone more than you.
Alas, what did you mean by your I DO!

We walked the aisle two as one
and bound with rings when we were done
so many years ago.

I lay me down upon demand
to serve your pleasures hand in hand
when oft I needed time to rest
three children having left the nest
but you stood staunchly strong and tall
demanding that I take it all.

And I did ad nauseam for you
and swallowed hard too many times
to fill me with your fantasies
you hid so well but not so long
until you said a name: the wrong one.
Then I knew when loving me
you really loved your fantasy.

Rather than condemn you, dear,
(I could not live without you, Sir,
my sicknesses, my desperate fear
of loneliness, lost years a blur)
rather than consign to doom,
I hide within my secret room.


The Secret Room: Part III

My room is open wide
any time the needs arise
for me to get away
from stark reality.

My raiment falls as fallen leaves
uplifted by Fall's zephyr's gentle breeze
and naked my reflection shows
what living beauty lies within
beyond the thunder thighs now thin
and sagging breasts once riding high
again are filled as firm with youth;
my eyes have twinkles lost in space
and wrinkles left my crinkled face.

My agéd limbs regained their strength,
shoulders, wrists and bony hands
now smooth and rich with iv'ry skin
pulled tight again, unmarred, renewed
as if reborn, a child again.
The mirrors all around
on every wall,
reflections reminiscing days of old,
don't lie but let me see my Id,
the self beyond what Ego shows,
not who I am but what I did.

With joyful leap upon the bed
I lie upon once aching back
no covers clothing o'er the flesh
that supple, taut, stretched to its length
I tremble with erotic thoughts
that free to play with untold joy
I am again that virgin queen
or, I can play a princess, coy,
in this my magic room unseen.


The Secret Room: Part IV

No windows cast their light within
nor let what happens in without
one door that opens open mind
and candles flicker with their light
the dark within this rheumy sight
the music plays inside my head
and body dances on the bed
my own in writhing rhythmic flow
like restless legs, a syndrome, go.

The bedding, blankets, all unfold
their cov'ring pulled upon the sheets
of satin, silky, soft, unstained
and here, for hours I remained
still, contemplative, as a dream
recurrent, vast collage of scenes
and I explore the outer shell
with heated oils, melted creams
spread evenly, s l o w l y
on all surfaces, no rings or bracelets
chains or charms
encumbering, raising false alarms
that this, my respite, was unreal
to all but me. It isn't as it seems,
not fantasy nor midday dreams.

My hands upon my flesh like yours
were delicate as once yours were
but are no more too rushed to touch
where you no longer care to roam.

The warming cream froths into foam
where spread apart I fill my gap
that yawned for you (tried only once)
till you rebelled against my will
that satisfied just me -- repelling you.


Now, here I lie my other self
re-loving me as is my need
without the fear your demon seed
will spill itself upon my skin
defiling this my dream within.



The Secret Room: Part V

Manipulating breasts erect
with nipples elongated, tall
my fingers rolled as if a ball
exciting me, both tips as eager
as they often were
now sensuously satisfied.

Both lips surrendered to my loving tongue
an oral organ moist and stiff
pressing on each lip as if
preparing to make daring plunge
between both lips below, above,
where oft they once enjoyed the love,
the lust, the passion, languid rims
resisting nothing, there they play
a gentle fugue, conductor less.

My open eyes saw dancing shadows
flickers frolicking with the flames
which formed such fearless faceless shapes
that lay upon my open shell.

My open hand with molten gel
spreads wide with gentle fingertips
two labia walls two lips too dried
til liquid oozing wet each side
and entered they with slathered mound
spreading ointment all around
the hallowed entrance, opened door
while heart beat off the notes by four
in pacing rhythm, sequence, heat
a largo first, andante dance
too slow at first as did Bizet
Bolero building ageless theme
crescendo rising from the ash
a soundless suite of sweetness wrung
from soundless songs in mem'ry sung
increasing, faster, presto beat
each finger playing instrument
a harp, a cello, viola string,
trombone and trumpet,
French horny thing,
and many reeds for many reads,
non-stop
the strings of violins
high pitched clarinets
coercing oboes
to cadenza of the night
the music of my own delight;

at last, the solo
takes the stage
in this interlude
where all the music stops
orchestral intermission
suspension of disbelief
collage of images flow by
fingers find that neuron mass
that stands erect upon its podium
my self conductor
an Aldo Ciccolini
piano virtuosity,
a two two time
whole rest
then minuet
a waltz time through
erectile state
fingers pressing, plucking, rubbing
gentle thrusts
each downbeat harsh staccato
upbeat terse vibrato
my clitoral choral fantasy
rushing through plush fields of play
blushing through blood fields where stay
a quartet of my solo artistry
no sweet suite, my fickle flight

my opened gap a voiceless aria
arpeggio of total scale
no note untouched
not flat nor sharp nor key
au natural
so fast a beat, so strong the will
the hummingbird's wings seem silent, still
till final coda mounts the hill
and plants the flag of victory
of this my own idolatry.
The pace is brisk, crescendo strong,
music's notes no rests for long,
once, twice, then thrice, a fourth, and more
then silence, clapping blasts, applause
awaiting more "Encore! Encore!"
and fingers played non-stop, no pause
to rest until the end that neural tip
can take no more, grows limply number
and breath grows weak and loosens grip
relaxing all en masse in slumber.
Beyond the lids, my curtain closed,
repose as my musicians leave, slowly
and all to beat of tympani
in this my self-made symphony.

The rhythm slowed adagio
as liquidly I came inside
and went as far as I could go
in this my own romantic ride
my lips now closed, await anew
my new concerto played with you.
where I can go at any time
no matter where, no matter when
returning to erotic prime
where I have more no need of men

to pluck my flowers still in bloom
that flourish in my secret room.