Tell A Lie to Keep A Promise

Sex Blood Sugar Magic

It was a blow to my heart, an attack at each interval of my heart beat causing me to rethink and reshape my views on life, love, honor, respect, devotion and the interchangeable connection of my heart to my blood and to my family. I boiled with hate and a misunderstanding-frustration of regret to family ties and kinship. I wondered about the events that occurred in between and in the morning I would open my eyes to the 4th of July, Independence Day, and my 18th birthday. We talked till early in the morning, me and Jules, for I don't know where everyone else was. Somewhere drinking and reminiscing I'm sure. I told him about my grandmother and he wasn't surprised. I assumed they all knew about my grandmother's deeds. I had so many questions to ask, What happened from that time up to her death? How did they find each other again? How did both of them feel about it? Was there tension? Was there regret or hate? How had they worked that out and still remained friends? Jules listened for hours to me and we really just talked about so much, he was quite the young philosopher giving me resolve to the many probing thoughts within this infected wound. I just needed him to hold me and that he did, putting a pillow in between us as his right arm laid a backwards L across my abdomen-forearm standing upright with his elbow axle-ling as a pinpoint at my belly button. His wrist lay resting in-between my breast and his hands were spread across my breast plate tickling my trachea. My heart was beating awkwardly-fast, a rhythmic drum pattern pumping blood to all sorts of places; I could feel this throbbing sensation between my legs I was getting hot and bothered, irritated like I wanted to squeeze my muscles in my vagina tight then slowly release, I wanted to bite that spongy muscle on my hand where my thumb is, the pollicis brevis. I wanted him to choke me slightly; gently grasping at my throat with gripping masculine clinches as I inhaled, causing me to have a voluntary spasm in which the sudden loss of breath would cause me to grasp for any available air. I heard his breath come out his mouth and felt the cool, but hotness, across the side of my neck it was like the fog of an early morning creeping across the lawn; escaping into my ear was the sound of a whispered hissing voice as his teeth seem to be resting on his tongue he said, "I want you."

I turned over and he was asleep and it had all been my imagination; my panties were soaking wet like confectioners' sugar mixed with water. I seductively kissed him as if I was the paramedics reviving him back from death-to-life. His eyes opened with the unfamiliar look of anxiety and shock of who I was and if I was ever shy and a little girl his masculinity woke up the feminine beast within me. I grabbed him with my hand like Hamlet holding a skull in hand, I cupped him at the base of his skull-palm resting on his neck, I used his hypothalamus to conjure up his love and held it hostage with no ransom. I tugged at his dungarees pulling them down gripping his underwear in the process. My four fingers were tickling his Christmas garland until I felt his warm muscle throbbing. He shouted, "your fingours are cold mon cheri." He slightly re-positioned himself until he was on his back my hands still gripping his dungarees as if it was an imaginary horn to a saddle. I stretched my legs over him and I seduced him with every female desire within me. Kissing his neck molesting his lips with my tongue as he refused to participate. I aggressively pulled down his pants took off my blouse pulled my panties off, twirling them, like a hula hoop toss-launching them across the room. I slid my vagina up and down his penis as if I was a snail slowly-crawling, caressing, excreting this sticky substance across his tree branch, for stimulating reciprocation.

I choked him showing him the male side of my Fe. I too had power I wasn't some wimp so soft of a girl. I bit his lip and kissed his forehead for being my savior during this time, this awkward transitional time, in my life. I stood on my knees balancing myself on the springs of the bed. Pulled his leather Billy club from beneath the shadows of the dark,  rubbed it from the beginning of my goddess made cut until It dropped into the abyss of my Bermuda triangle. I clinched my Venus fly trap tight as I began to slid it from the base of his pelvis to the tip; releasing dropping down hard unclenched in even and odd numerical counts of ahhhhhhhhh. Needless to say it was the wildest beastly loving-good satisfying experience for my first time. I had raped him my first victim and all I could remember was the pleasing smile of disbelief in his eyes. I rested on his chest him still lodged soft in me.

I had fallen asleep and woke up at 12:00 noon with him telling me that I fell asleep lying on top of him snoring in his ear and drooling on his chest. I apologized for I had a rough couple of months and that type of narcolepsy is apparent when I am very tired and exhausted; I snore. I showered and met everyone downstairs for brunch. No awkwardness between us and everyone else, and from the various conversations I heard, they had passed out after a night of champagne and playing Pokeno. There was some talk about a living trust-will or some shit between this family. I tried to stay out of it the information passed through one ear and out the other. I felt liberated and I zoned out at the table hearing faint male and female voices passing over the airways. We all departed from the Brunch everyone else was consumed by the business at hand I decided this was a perfect opportune time to canoe in Lake Louise. I canoed to the middle of the Lake slowly escaping away again from the masses of people who always seemed to consume most of their time conversing about family issues. I listened to my favorite song by the red Hot Chilli Peppers "I could have lied." I don't think I fell asleep but the song that was on repeat probably took me into a trance. 

 Time went by and I could see as I lay in the canoe the different shades of color transition the day from afternoon to evening, the sun was beginning to set and a burst of colorful light sailed across the sky. The dead soldiers who still lived on earth that fought in this civil war threw their magical pixie dust across the sky. The black canvas was brush stroked with colored flames and sparks of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and silver. At every combustion you heard the percussion of a gunshot, or canon blast and my heart trembled. As my canoe slowly floated to the opposite side of the lake. I saw what seem like I stepped back in time to a group of Indians who were dancing around a camp fire. I audaciously canoed fast and with expedited first class shipment urgency I arrived on the shore of the opposite side of the Lake. He summoned me over and I sat around the campfire. The young lady took my face and painted it with this red paste. Gave me a knife and a hand axe, when the color was finished being applied to the top portion of my face and the Indian who was more likely the chief told me, "your face is a mask that conceals your soul and its visage is ordered to enslave the fragile truth that your encaged soul wants to tell." He took my hand with the knife in it and made me cut his palm and he squoze the blood from his hand into the camp fire. There's only one true path that leads to one path of self-discovery. 

I saw my mother, my grandmother, and I being burned in the fire. There was a child that was in my stomach singing some sort of la la bye. I could see through the skin of my belly it moving. It was the only being that seemed to be happy within the fire. They all turned and pointed at me. Their eyes went obsidian white showing no pupil and the Indians began to dance around the camp fire woo woo wooing with their four fingers waving back and forth up to their open mouths- like as if they were fake blowing cigarette-smoke o's into the air. They instantly stopped as if the fire was talking or giving them insight into a vision of the future. They looked at me with shocking despair. As if they didn't want to tell me further instructions from the vision they saw within the fire. They hurried up and kicked the dirt over the fire and sat down Indian style in contemplation. He pulled out a bag of red dust poured it in his hand and blew it in my face. I could hardly see. The burning and irritation caused me to rub it further into my eyes. I could only see in intervals as I cleared the debris from my eyelids. They were running away into the woods afraid of me and then the Tsuu T'ina disappeared into the shadows of the foliage that cascaded the night. I turned and submerged my head into the waters of the lake and as I lifted my head from the water, I awakened to coughing up water and everyone was surrounding me as I had been resuscitated back to life from my obvious drowning in Lake Louise.