I allow myself to be seduced. It is not a seduction of the body, although my body responds as it often does, finely tuned to the methods of the seduction, responding to the kind words or the whiff of intimacy with random contractions and a ripeness that seems to burst through my thin skin.
This is not the ordinary thing, an affair, a jealous parting, a ripping and tearing at each others bodies. This is a seduction of minds and my heart reluctantly follows where my head is straying, into the fantasy of this intimacy which will one day ease back into it's easy place of friendship.
I have an uneasy relationship with the idea of love. I like the clean separation between the heart and the groin, and yet when love and sex becomes entangled I lose my ability to walk straight and calmly out into the world. My mind cycles around in a feedback loop. I am deafened by the shriek of care and sex rubbing against each other.
You stand, confused watching me as if I were a catherine wheel, vaguely tethered mid air by the tenuous safety of old string. Half pleasure, half terror. Some day in the very near future I may tear free of my moorings. Then perhaps you will run away.