Breath Control
Who wouldn't want a good girl, a soft hand, a
gentle woman for a gentleman? He said, "It's
been fine so far but after a while I want more
than a soft style. I want some slashes to go
with those long eyelashes." And so the bedroom
became the black room but a year later he wanted
something more, something I wasn't quite prepared
for. He said, "Every woman has an itch and every
nice girl secretly wants to switch.
I like how the skins look on your white hands. I'd
like you to deliver one of my demands." He said,
"Every woman has an itch and every nice girl wants
to switch." He led me in and lit the room with a
hundred candles and said "God never gives you
more than you can handle."
I sat astride his chest, "It's just a thrill," he said,
as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed, "it's just
breath control." He whispered "Hold me here"
and I did and his head fell back. He whispered
"Press harder" and I did and his eyes rolled back.
It's just breath control. Just breath control.
I saw him go pale. I saw him seize up, I felt something
creep up like a taste for this. Like a reward. A kind of
love, a kind of lustmord. It was a minute then three then
five then ten, he wasn't coming up again. I held on for
twelve. I saw him seize and thrash and twist and when
he was still, I lifted away my wrists and looked at my hands
and tried to understand.
"It's just a thrill" I said as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed.
I sat aside his chest, "It's just a thrill," he said, "just a thrill.
It's just breath control."
When it was over, I slipped off the skins and drowned
them in the river where we used to swim and a year
later in a shop, I was stopped by a man. He said, "I
know you're looking for something that's hard to find
and I think I have what you have in mind." And he
led me to a glass case and looked deep into my
face.... "It's just control."
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