Hey You, By The Wall

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Written by Panmi. For other Jewrotica writing by Panmi, see Shiksa-Goddess in my Life, I Stood In Front of Her, The Spilled Seed Chronicles, and Chasid, Tourist in a Kinky World.

Rated R

Hey you, by the wall,
right behind the glow
of the spotlight.
Your face in shadow,
Your back to the crowd.
Hey you,
You of the disappearing courage
and yesterday’s false bravado.
Three years ago you fell into her bed
and somewhere in the middle of discovery,
and falling
you began to crave that crop.
Now you are here in this room
heavy with sweat,
lust
and unspoken desire,
and you want her back
but you will instead settle for the crop.
Three years ago when your mind exploded into thousands of tiny glass shards, when you looked into her bottomless green eyes,
and you thought you glimpsed eternity…
You swore you saw experiences in those pools of ambiguity that would surely make you come alive,
make you feel like you were flying,
dying
and coming undone all at once,
when she roped you in with her forever love promises,
ephemeral gossamer lies
and those swollen red lips
small sharp white teeth…
Kneeling before her,
you were no longer the faithfully
devout, religious wife and mother,
the one who virginal and innocent pledged herself to a young man
eighteen years before,
who still waits for you,
still waits faithfully at home
with your four little children in your white picket fenced front yard.
You became undone in her arms,
unraveled
unspooled
and unscrambled.
You of bygone morals, the oriented
unshakable
reasoned
and legendary in your faith,
you let that beguiling female rob you of everything!
It was the fall of her hair
and the flush on her neck and chest.
It was the way she used her nails to rake your skin and mark you with herself.
It was her spit and your blood!
How she drew little hearts
and flowers
on your belly and thighs
with the lining of your uterus and
pronounced this utter unspeakable taboo,
a work of art.
You are here- in a hall filled with strangers trying to find her in the leather
and the wood
and the rope
and the chains.
But she is long gone.
She is gone, for good.
She ripped you open,
innards tumbling to the ground….
all of you exposed and naked to the harsh light of day
and left you to the carrion seekers.
I still believe she had no comprehension of her own power
and that she used it upon you thoughtlessly
and blind to her charms.
But she is gone…
and you are broken…
and lonely
in a room full of strangers
risky business stirring up that old flame….
pushing and poking the embers that are left of your heart.
Trying to recreate a passion long dead,
stripped and tattered,
ruining you for anything
and anyone else.

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