Last weekend I found myself In the lap of a beautiful woman Warm and high we Float serenely on a Large pool toy of Nesse, Amongst the Nerd Babes Wild party @The Drifter Hotel, A popular alternative nightlife venue it is Almost Summer Solstice In New Orleans, Louisiana
Neon lights slide across our Dewy skin, rainbow beach balls Deflating aliens float by, Fellow revelers lounge Sip cocktails and daqueries as 90s pop vibrates our bones. Feet Lull in the warm and lightly salted water.
The beautiful woman beneath me keeps me warm. I feel her skin, she is Topless she is my Best Friend We gaze directly up to the cloudy sky, Midnight pollution the city makes it Difficult to see many stars Yet here I am, with you Looking anyway
She took me out tonight she got me high bought me a soda helped me eat a falafel gyro she lent me a swimsuit and listened to me spill darkness from my chest and into the void of the sky that we stared deep into on this night, we glimpsed from the edge of the cliff we saw our reflection in distant nebulae in the eyes of god we were no longer mad at each other because we made it out alive. We know our love is greater than the pain this world can provide.
I love her
The crowd follows our every move. All eyes Desire to see us kiss. All men Imagine touching our bodies.
Sola, all curves, perfect Hourglass figure, olive skin, Giggling over a cute guy that told her He thinks curvy girls are sexier. She is Charming, dirty blonde hair, vivacious Boundless Joy and a love that Gives as much As fears and I, Waist length dirty blonde hair to match Pulled half up in space buns memory of Magical Girl. Black roses, holographic Pentagrams, and a Lavender rosary which I nibble on to take selfies and Wonder how offended or aroused he would be To see his Crush half nude with His Savior in her pouty lips.
We strut past the pool to Get drinks and All Eyes are on us We know how beautiful We are Lillith Tempting prophets to connect Holy Pleasure to their Sin
Tonight, Sola takes care of me, Accepts the Mother Role with One hit of her bong Found myself Too high, needing her help, Forced, To accept her help
Perhaps, in truth An excuse to accept help a Tangible reason a valid reason to Need
Often I Need help Physically Eating When high, food cannot travel From table to mouth my Quiet hands forget that journey Lose their way in between Maybe I can ask to be fed I can Ask for someone to notice How I struggle how my tired Hands get lost. Pray for Rain.
Healing us both, Role reversal for just one night With a kindness that brought me close to Tears, she taught me how to Light the household bong with A patience I struggle to trust I knew I had permission to take my time to Make mistakes. I knew she cared.
Sola: the nurturer, the patient teacher, the mother Holding space for, forcing me to receive.
Please, never leave me I will love this woman till the day I die
These days I am weary But I let the ocean toss me Surrender to Her Power Acknowledge I am Smaller Than omnipotent peace Carried myself to the sea at midnight Full moon and went To the Deep Strong enough to fight Her Deep and cold where the Fear Lives where Old women sing us awake Treading Water You are rough tonight But I have faith I will not go under I spoke with you & the Moon I Sang in French Dove under each wave Reemerging just to say I could Bare but not quite nude Salt between toes Dove under each quake As she Came and sticky and shaking in my body Gasping as if I might Drown
I Fought For You I Battled in your Name I Love You
I’ll never fucking leave you. Curl & float I may look dead but I am very alive Toss me about all you like caus All I can do is trust you The Bravest I’ll ever do is Surrender
Up on the porch next to my Best Friend I let the wind coarse over my entire body I Let her Caress me I let her Hold me & Sweep all the Muck away & She did so gladly. She never stopped, Not once. She never left. I just laid back.
Then me and the guys, we walked Late, Late & Found a mysterious gift of fresh fruit Laid bare a miracle a gift washed up Lulled in the wading deep Offering which we destroyed, Reveling, in our power Ending that which was free & Holy Because We Could And that is enough
Figures in the dark, Tyler says they’re afraid Of Me and I swell in Power and Pride
I said we should scream into the waves, I Said run, and we did, We fucking did.
Soft, pink & warm thing, Palm of my left hand you lie Sleeping you dream of dancing maybe One day crying.
He is nearby. Never sure if He is watching, So continue performing. Carry on your Prancing. Let him close when he approaches. It’s okay to look away when He can’t see.
Disgust & self-loathing, Feed your daughter before She knows better. Before she knows She’s stronger. Feed her poison when she laughs Too loud. Shine her windows when she Scrapes her knee playing ball.
Put a needle in her palm. Buy her a shiny fish to stare at.
Teach her to slit her Tongue & Lick Bruises, to keep cumming, Flipping pages, avoiding Rages.
It won’t be long till she understands her opinion is only valuable for marketing.
She’ll teach herself how to starve, don’t worry about that. She’s okay, really, she’s okay. It’s not a problem because she Keeps Saying She’s Okay.
And mind your damn business.
He had visions of you taking over this world and he was terrified, you shook him to his core. He knew, he saw your fire, he saw you dancing in red skirts, heard you singing wild, he understood the threat of your joy, the sharpness of your mind, the power of your body, the magic in your words,
He saw you as a weapon
& He made you believe that for many many years.
As you were born he feared you were a witch yet Here you are a Sorceress You are yet a queen Embody Goddess recognize yourself in the mirror Honor her in each of your sisters Don’t stop gazing You will see
——————— Photograph at top is by: Aries Photography, find her on Instagram @ariesphotographynola Modeling is by me: Mag
Saturday, sacred night Sola and I go to the Marigny to Lower Decatur in the French Quarter, we walk 7 blocks through our dirty streets it is a warm February night it is a young night yet. We wear our best and most extravagant and weird and sexy and wrong. We are attending the infamous Krewe Du Vieux parade, it is Carnival Season in New Orleans, Louisiana
There are saints in white and gold lace dripping from crowned heads they are blindfolded they hold scales and are lit with soft glowing lights in their hair, they are Dr. Sandra Ford, Lady Justice. They peer knowingly at the crowd and slowly march past with a solemnness that is unusual for a parade like this. In dizzying contrast, next arrives a giant paper-mache Putin holding a baby Trump like a tiny screaming sock puppet meanders by, fist in ass. Next is a float and marchers that parody the construction issues in NOLA they carry signs that say on one side “stop” and on the back “twerk”, and the crowd, eager for revelry, obeys the turn of the signs as squealing women wearing nothing but caution tape march past.
Nuns and priests and the pope himself saunter by with paddles, spanking the crowd’s asses if you bend over to receive.
They hand out weed wrappers and lube and all handmade throws. The parade is entirely walking, save for small human or mule drawn floats.
We get drinks, a whiskey and ginger ale for me and a vodka cranberry for Sola at a new “goth” bar, used to be Pravda so long ago, used to be a lesbian Riot Grrl bar before that, Sola says. Inside men place themselves close to me at the bar side, inviting a hello from me as I ignore and turn to my best friend. Not out of boredom or lack of attraction, but not wanting to deal with men lately. Outside, and a tall and handsome punk man with a lavender mohawk, not spiked, jokes with us and playfully flirts.
I fall in love with Sola over and over again I watch out for her when she goes to the restroom and we talk about fear of men. Katie joins us, she is so small in the crowd and can’t see the parade. Eventually I help her to the front, and she is alive, a local through and through. Archer and Edward join us, both a little insecure but radiating anxious smiles, and I am thrilled to see them. Next floats by an alien in bondage with a giant green penis, gagged and hung high above the crowd, Sola and I scream and beg to be abducted. It says, “In space, no one can hear your safe word.” Sola gives her weed wrappers to Archer, her fiance, and hands a couple packs of them to a fellow parade goer behind her because at Carnival we share.S
Edward, strange but kind. Sweet but not forcing his charm. Authentic. Small diamond earrings, nice shoes, some type of chain around his neck but under his tee shirt, peeking as it lays across his neck and collarbones. Skin of his kind face a little affected by faking many smiles.
Says people don’t respect new money but he is just as excited to tell us all about his pet bird.
Does not pretend to be tough or to be a good guy. They ask us girls if we want to go to their office in the CBD and hang out on the rooftop patio, with a view of the whole city. They offer us beers and iced coffee on tap.
How. Could. I. Say. No.
We walk and walk and the crowd fades from locals to tourists, Sola and I climb the streetlights and she twerks and tourists want to stay a bit longer in New Orleans, Louisiana. I’m jumping and climbing on anything I can, and we arrive at a chic building, elevator up, up, on a sterile and dead quiet shared office space. All windows, all glass you can see everything, dozens of rooms, floors and stairs up and down and real succulents it is a jungle it is empty and horrifying and I am lost and I want to cry I am stuck on a landing the doors are locked it’s glass all around me and drop off to floor so so far below there is nowhere to hide I hear Sola calling I don’t know where, an infinite soft echo her voice a hallucination. In my head I imagine myself folding and crumpling and crying and hair messy and makeup running and Edward or Archer finding me and consoling me and telling me it’s all going to be okay and they pick me up and just hold me.
Here this is my reason to cry, here I have found my chance. A valid reason to request comfort. A fear you can see and measure.
Sola finds me and we ascend to the rooftop patio, I awake to a perfect mist a gray embrace holding the skyscrapers together, remaining in comfort the Holy Ghost, lingering low and spending time with the children. The city on fire of mist and the fog illuminated by the shallow and excited breathing of our shared ecstasy, wild beauty.
Sola is so beautiful; this light does her justice and I insist on taking photos of her and she offers to take some of me. I hear a voice calling and Archer hears it also, a person stands somewhere in the infinite possibility of surrounding sky scrapers, with infinite reasons to be speaking into the darkness. On a ledge near the edge I lie flat on my back and push up, hands and feet and back curved high, I enter a full and deep wheel, with my leg and toe extended directly up.
This electricity carries us to Archer’s car where we enter and they play loud 90s rap
andKatie rises like the moon, like the irrepressible sun, refusing to stay quiet, through the window and shouts at the tourists,
the passerby through the CBD and French Quarter and we laugh and laugh until we are all hoarse and Archer is so happy and I scream a joke at a cute Pedicab driver and we laugh and all go home and sleep very, very, deep and well.
There exists a part of me in terror in Archer’s car with Edward up front and I think of what they could do and if I am in danger and I tell myself that one is Sola’s fiancé and the other a close friend and Katie and I will be okay and I choose to let those thoughts pass by and I cannot lie that part of that fear is thrilling too.